Meant to Be
by merderpedia
Summary: What if Lexie and Mark were not hurt quite so badly in the plane crash? What if we knew everything that happened during those four days in the woods and the months afterwards? This is the story of the Seattle Grace Six, their trauma, and recovery. PTSD trigger warning. MerDer, eventual Slexie. (Don't like angst, don't read. My first published fic!)
1. Migration

_Each of you comes here today a hopeful, wanting in on the game… a month ago, you were in med-school being taught by doctors. Today, you are the doctors. The five years you spend here as a surgical resident will be the best and worst of your lives. You will be pushed to the breaking point. Look around you. Say hello to your competition. Eight of you will switch to an easier specialty. Five of you will crack under pressure and two of you will be asked to leave. This is your starting point. This is your arena. How well you play? That's up to you._

"Look at Alex, showing us all up by going to Hopkins," Meredith Grey smiled.

It was a pathetic scene… a scene that could only take place somewhere as crazy as Seattle Grace Mercy West. A team of six surgeons were literally walking out the door to board their plane to Boise, Idaho and Arizona Robbins was chasing after Alex Karev who had changed his mind at the last minute… he was accepting a fellowship at Johns Hopkins instead of staying with his mentor in Seattle.

"If Robbins lets him live that long," Cristina added, who was standing next to her friend, her former _person._

For years, the two residents had been calling each other their _person…_it was their way of acknowledging their kindred friendship without getting too soppy. When Meredith had tried to continue this tradition yesterday though, Cristina had shot her down, stating that Owen was her person now and that she could not make fellowship decisions based on their relationship.

_Yeah, Owen is your person but wasn't it Owen that just cheated on you? _Meredith had wondered numerous times. Derek was the love of her life but that did not undo her person-promise with Cristina.

It was time to be honest. Meredith looked at Cristina and uttered the words that she knew she would have to say sooner or later: "I'm going to Boston. I told Hunt."

"And I'm going to Mayo," Cristina said and despite the overwhelming sense of change, Meredith could not help but smile. They would keep in touch. Meredith would be home to visit Lexie; Derek would want to see Mark. Both of the twisted sisters had passed their boards and they were on their way to fulfilling their dreams. Cristina grinned, too.

Meredith would never make a huge, life-altering decision based purely on Derek's wants but moving to Boston only made sense for both of them. Yes, they would miss Seattle but a lot had happened there and it was not all rainbows and sunshine. Meredith's mother had died… George had been run over by a bus… Izzie had gotten cancer and then run away and the entire hospital had been shot-up by an enraged Gary Clark.

Derek had almost been killed and his recovery had been hell on both of them… Meredith had nearly drowned… they had suffered a miscarriage. Last year, the Alzheimer's trial had fallen apart and Zola could have lost her family forever.

It would be good to have a fresh start and Derek was looking forward to leading the neurosurgery department at Harvard. He would get to teach the best fellows in the world and be close to his family in New York. Meanwhile, Meredith would be learning from Brigham, the most incredible general surgery program in the country.

Yes, moving to Boston was clearly the right move for everyone. Mark was already in the process of purchasing the dream house that Derek had built in Seattle and the latter had sworn that he would build another dream house on the east coast.

Eventually, the doctors were able to get out the door of Seattle Grace. Arizona Robbins had let Alex live to see another day but it looked like he was not going to be joining the team on their flight after all. Arizona was taking his place because of the whole argument.

"Aw, man. That sucks; I was hoping for one more surgery with you and Evil Spawn before we all split off across the country," Cristina sighed as they traveled to the airport via bus.

Meredith gave her a subtle look; neither would admit it, but they were not thrilled about having Arizona here. She had been in such a bad mood the last few days and listening to her whine for hours was not the ideal way to end residency.

The group of attendings and residents were going to Boise Memorial to perform a complicated surgery on a set of conjoined twins. They had had success with a pair in Seattle not long ago, and other hospitals in the region wanted to be taught their technique.

This required an expert in almost every single specialty and that was why so many surgeons were making the trip to Idaho. Derek was Chief of Neurosurgery so it made sense to send him for the brain matter and then Mark was tagging along to work his magic on the skin as Chief of Plastics. The original plan had been for Alex to represent the pediatric department but Arizona had taken over. She claimed to have worked on conjoined twins lots of times in her career.

Finally, Meredith and Cristina were both extremely proud to be sent on this mission as the solo scientists in their respective specialties, general surgery and cardio. Lexie had been chosen to go as a tag-in surgeon. She had not yet officially declared a specialty so she could technically help out in any category but Lexie was the frontrunner for Chief Resident in the coming year and it would be good to have an extra set of hands.

At the airport, the team of doctors were brought directly to the private aircraft that Owen had arranged for them. It was not the first time that Meredith had flown somewhere for a surgery so she was not particularly nervous about the ordeal.

All of the fifth-year surgical residents, such as Cristina and Meredith, were supposed to return to Seattle by tonight so that they could have their end-of-residency dinner with Dr. Webber. Although he was not technically the Chief of Surgery anymore, he still liked to carry on the tradition of celebrating with graduating students.

It was a nice gesture. Unfortunately, none of the residents themselves were really looking forward to it. Meredith hoped that she and Cristina would be forced to remain in Boise overnight to complete some kind of miraculous, marathon procedure on the twins.

Now, that would be the perfect end to residency!

On board the aircraft, Meredith quickly stuffed her bags into the carry-on rack above her seat. She would need to review her notes for the operation but that could wait until later. In the meantime, once the plane was up in the air, Meredith got up and walked back to the rear end of the cabin where her little sister was studying.

"Hiding from McSteamy?"

Lexie glanced up from her work and smiled wearily. "Hey. Have you decided on a fellowship?"

Normally, Meredith might have teased Lexie about the fact that she had strategically avoided the McSteamy question, but now was not the time. Owen had been informed that his top neurosurgeon was leaving Seattle Grace, therefore, the news was sure to spread fast and Meredith did not want Lexie to find out about their move to Boston through the rumor mill.

"Yeah, um… that's actually what I was coming to talk to you about. I've accepted the fellowship in Boston. I told Hunt so… so it's official. Derek and I are moving in a month."

There were a few seconds of silence as this news sunk-in. Lexie looked sad but not all that surprised. "But… but then I'm not going to have anyone. And I'm gonna miss you so much."

"I'll miss you too, but don't worry. You'll have people. We'll be home to visit for Christmas, at the latest," Meredith said.

"We're not going to become strangers," Lexie confirmed and Meredith shook her head.

This appeared to make things better; Lexie sighed with relief. "Okay, then… I bet Derek's excited, huh?"

"Yeah, he's going to lead the neurosurgery department at Harvard," Meredith said. "And I'll be a fellow at Brigham and then… then I'll be an attending. This is insane."

"I really can't believe my boards are less than a year away," Lexie agreed.

Meredith tried not to think about how fast her little sister was growing-up. "Yeah, but you don't have anything to worry about. Do you have any idea what you want to specialize in?"

"Yeah, I… um, don't tell Derek I said anything cause I don't know for sure yet but I've really been liking neuro. Derek's hopeless cases aren't quite so… um, hopeless lately and he's been teaching me a lot. He said that neuro programs across the country would be fighting for me and my photographic memory," Lexie said and then stopped short. "Wait, would that make you mad? If I took, I mean… you were all into neuro…"

"I don't and never did own neuro, Lexie. That would be awesome if you were a neurosurgeon," Meredith said and she meant it. "Hey… maybe in a year, you could even look into a fellowship of your own in Boston. It looks like we're going to have a pretty fantastic chief of neurosurgery. You could stay with Derek and me."

Lexie's eyes lit up. "Oh, God… that would be amazing! I mean, I love Seattle but I don't know if I want to stay here my whole life and… and there's nothing else here really holding me down. I was supposed to be in Boston from the beginning; I'm a Harvard alumni…"

"And you could get away from all the… history here," Meredith whispered because Mark was sitting just a few rows ahead.

Lexie nodded eagerly. "It would be so nice to have a fresh start."

Meredith's fellowship had not even started yet but suddenly, it seemed like everything was falling into place for the foreseeable future. She, Zola, and Derek would move to Boston… Cristina would do what she was meant to do at Mayo and Mayo was a hell of a lot closer to Boston than Stanford was… they could meet up.

In a year, Lexie would join her sister in Boston because there was really no reason why she would not get accepted into their program. Lexie was brilliant and would doubtlessly pass her boards; Derek could put in a referral for her, too.

But Meredith did not want to get too far ahead of herself. Her life had been no cakewalk and it seemed like every time that she started planning too far into the future, reality slapped her in the face.

A million things could go wrong before this time next year. Lexie could get hit by a bus. Derek could be shot. Meredith might drown. One of them could make a medical error that ended their career; it had almost happened so many times already. The plane they were currently on could crash and they could all be killed…

"Well, I'm gonna head back up and sit with Derek for now; we'll talk more later, okay?" Meredith said, brushing the dark and twisty thoughts from her mind.

Lexie nodded. "Yeah, I need to finish my application for Chief Resident. It's due later this week and I'm hoping the whole conjoined twins thing will help."

"It will but don't worry about that either. No one else stands a chance," Meredith smiled and then she walked back up towards the front of the cabin and sat down next to Derek who had fallen asleep while attempting to read a pediatric neurosurgery book.

Meredith poked him. "Hey, sleepyhead."

Derek snapped awake. "God, I need to wake-up. I don't know what's wrong with me. There's not any coffee on this plane, is there?"

"I don't think there's any food, period; it's only supposed to be an hour and a half flight," Meredith said. "Do you feel okay? I hope you're not coming down with whatever bug Zola and I had…"

"Yes, thank you, Dr. Grey but I'm fine," Derek yawned and sat up properly. "So… so did you tell Lexie?"

"Yeah, I did but I think everything's going to be okay," Meredith said. "Don't tell her I told you but as of right now, she is wanting to pursue neuro as a specialty."

Derek raised his eyebrows. "So maybe I've made more of an impression on her than she acts like, sometimes…"

"It looks like it and she's gonna be looking into fellowships this next year. Do you think we could do anything for her in Boston? I know she would love to continue learning from you," Meredith suggested and hoped that Derek did not think she was pushing things too far, getting too personal.

It did not appear that way; Derek smiled. "Well, Lexie is one of the most talented residents I've ever met and she shows promise in neuro… not quite as much as her older sister but…"

"But we already know that we can't work together," Meredith finished. "And it's not like I have a photographic memory either."

"I'll see what I can do once we get settled there," Derek said and that sounded good.

Meredith placed her hand in her husband's and leaned her head onto his shoulder. "Thank you for convincing me to go."

"Like I had anything to do with it," Derek said. "Cristina is headed to Columbia, isn't she?"

"No, she's going to Mayo," Meredith said and tried not to smile at the way Derek's eyes lit up.

She knew it was difficult for him sometimes. There were moments when Derek felt like he was not the first priority in Meredith's life at all, that Cristina was, but that was not true. Derek and Cristina were equally special to Meredith and she knew that she would have Derek no matter where she completed her fellowship.

If Meredith moved to Boston or California or anywhere else- or stayed in Seattle- Derek would be there. He would be wanted anywhere because of his worldwide ranking as a neurosurgeon. It was different for Cristina. She was not a cardio goddess yet and Meredith had to make sure they stayed close.

The flight from Seattle to Boise was short. By the time that Meredith had grasped Derek's hand, they had already been up in the air for over thirty minutes which meant that less than an hour remained. Meredith needed to review the scans of the twins one more time before landing; she had been procrastinating for too long…

Suddenly, just as Meredith was about to stand and reach for her briefcase, there was a loud, rumbling noise from the back of the plane and the aircraft rocked back and forth.

"What was that?" Derek said; they both turned around but the only abnormality that Meredith saw was an expression of absolute terror etched on Lexie's face.

A strained voice echoed over the loudspeaker from the cockpit. "S-Sorry, folks; we're experiencing a bit of turbulence but… b-but there's no reason to be alarmed!"

"It's okay, Lex!" Meredith called into the back row and then faced Derek again. "I bet you're awake now, aren't you?"

Derek chuckled. "Oh, yes… nothing like a bumpy flight to wake you up…"

And then the turbulence returned, a hundred times stronger. Meredith was beginning to doubt whether or not this was turbulence at all. Before she could stop herself, she flew forwards, out of her seat and Derek barely grabbed his wife's arm in time to keep her from sliding down the aisle.

Wait, why was the aisle slanted, anyway?

"Meredith, get your seatbelt on!" Derek demanded.

Meredith was dragging herself back into her seat when the pilot made another announcement and this time, his voice was downright panicked: "W-We're experiencing some mild… mild m-mechanical issues! P-Please try not worry; I'm going to land us at the… the n-nearest…"

The pilot trailed off. Meredith's world was bouncing up and down. She heard someone, it sounded like Lexie, scream at the top of their lungs from behind. Derek grabbed Meredith's hand and she thought that she squeezed back… she knew that something was horribly wrong; she knew that things were too good to be true…

Meredith was falling, in a complete nosedive forwards. Derek could not catch her this time; his hand was wrenched out of her own…

_SLAM! _Meredith's head collided with something hard and then she was on fire; she was burning alive. Meredith tried to scream; she tried to escape but no part of her body was functioning correctly. Meredith's mind could process no more; the world slipped away and everything went black.


	2. Flight

_**Author's Note: Okay, guys… sorry I never really did an intro for my first chapter but this is my first published story on Fanfiction dot Net so I'm still getting used to things! I hope you enjoyed Chapter One of "Meant to Be"! If you have not gathered as much already, this is going to be an AU story where things do not end quite so tragically for the six surgeons on the flight from Seattle to Boise in 8x24. I obviously don't want to reveal too much but as of right now, the plan is that this story is going to go through the end of season 9, although of course the events that take place will be a little different. Thank you all SO much for all of the amazing reviews/favorites that I have gotten so far. I have been writing for almost my whole life but I have never "published" anything before so it's so amazing to see people actually reading and enjoying my work.**_

_**Oh and one more thing. Just in case you are confused by any of the dates in this story, in my Grey's Anatomy universe, everything took place one year after it did on the show. This just helped me fit a lot of timelines better together. So just to be clear, Meredith graduated medical school and started her internship in 2008. Lexie did the same in 2009. George died and MerDer got married in 2010 and the shooting happened in 2011. The plane crash is taking place in 2013. **_

_**All good? Okay I know this was way too long. Enjoy and please continue to leave reviews, it seriously means so much to me! Xoxo, merderpedia **_

There was smoke and there was screaming. Those were the first two things that managed to register in Meredith's aching mind. She could not figure out how to open her eyes yet but she could smell the smoke and she could hear multiple people yelling. And somehow, Meredith knew that things had turned from _wrong_ to _catastrophic. _

Before she could consider the specifics though, Meredith passed out again and when she next awoke, it was because she heard a frantic voice: "Mer?! Meredith! Meredith, get up! You have to get up now!"

It was Cristina.

Slowly, Meredith opened her eyes. The world was blurry; there was something wrong with her sight but Meredith could tell that she was lying on the ground in the middle of a… forest? She was surrounded by trees, looking up at the sky with no memory of what had happened but she knew that she was not supposed to be here.

"Meredith, get up! Oh, God," Cristina begged so Meredith tried to sit up but she could not move… she was so dizzy and her head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

Instead, she looked around with the small amount of vision her eyes were providing. Nearby, Cristina was pacing nervously, all the while clutching her left arm with her right. Something was clearly wrong with it.

In the opposite direction, Mark was kneeling on the ground, tending to Arizona who was screaming hysterically. There was blood on both of their faces; there was blood on Cristina and Meredith could feel something wet trickling down the side of her head.

Meredith opened her mouth to ask if Cristina was alright but then she decided that that was a stupid question and just muttered, "H-How long was I out?"

"I don't… I don't know. I lost my shoe," Cristina said and she kept running around, as if the shoe was going to be hiding under a random leaf… because they were in the middle of the forest…

"Where's… where's Derek and Lexie?" Meredith asked.

"I… I don't know. I lost a shoe…"

"What happened? I'm… I'm bleeding," Meredith pressed; it was strange because there was blood everywhere and they were in the middle of the forest yet she still had no idea why they were here. Her mind was working in slow-motion…

Cristina was a mess, constantly moving but she stopped short, just long enough to stare at Meredith. "The plane crashed, that's what happened! We were in a plane and it crashed. Plane crash!"

The plane crashed. They were on their way to Boise, Idaho to operate on conjoined twins and the plane had crashed. Meredith had been kidding herself about how all those things could go wrong, how the plane could crash… and the plane had crashed.

Now, it was time to ask those important questions. Meredith could feel herself hyperventilating with fear. "Is… is everyone okay? Are you… okay?"

"I mean, if you count a fractured collarbone and a dislocated shoulder as _okay_ then… yeah! Yeah, I'm freaking amazing!" Cristina cried and a certain amount of reality sunk in.

They were in a plane crash. People were injured. Perhaps people were dead. What if Derek was dead? Meredith felt tears well up in her eyes. "Where is D-Derek?! Cristina, where… is… Derek?!"

"He was sucked out the side when we hit the trees and then the back of the plane came off… it came… it came off," Cristina rambled.

Meredith remembered the way that her sister had been screaming. "Lexie was in the back of the plane!"

"I looked to the back and all I could see was freaking sky!" Cristina said.

"Where is she?!"

"I don't know! I only have one shoe!"

Cristina was clearly in shock because otherwise, she would be able to focus on something other than her damn shoe. Meredith ignored her and instead, reached up to wipe the side of her face which was becoming increasingly wet and sticky. Her hand came away splashed thick with bright, red blood and she had no idea where it was coming from…

Meredith did not think she could get up. It had nothing to do with the blood; Meredith was a surgeon and she could handle blood but she was still so dizzy and felt like if she attempted to stand, she would pass-out… and if she had a concussion or a head injury of any type, the worst thing to do would be to lose consciousness again.

_You have to get up,_ Meredith told herself. She had to get up for Derek and Lexie so with all her strength, she attempted to haul herself into a sitting position but as soon as she did, the world went blurry and Meredith collapsed backwards, whispering, "Ow, ow…"

These words distracted Cristina from her missing shoe, for just a moment. "What's wrong? Are you… where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere," Meredith groaned and closed her eyes because she was so nauseous. "M-My… my head and… oh, God; I feel sick…"

Cristina knelt down next to Meredith and examined her, gently. "Yeah, your head is bleeding bad. Oh my God… oh my God, Mer…"

Meredith could not bring herself to answer. If she opened her mouth, she was going to be sick and the trees were spinning in uneven waves. They were in a plane crash. They were really in a plane crash… Meredith could feel her pulse racing from the shock and adrenaline.

"Meredith, I need you to keep talking to me," Cristina begged and then her voice was screaming. "We need help! Mark… Mark, p-please come help!"

There were fading footsteps from nearby; Meredith had a feeling that she slipped in and out of consciousness as Mark slowly made his way over. "What's going on? Is Grey alive?"

"She's alive but she's hurt bad and keeps passing out," Cristina said. "We've gotta wrap her head with something or she's gonna bleed out."

"Okay, um… okay, hold on," Mark said and he tore into some nearby wreckage and came back with some kind of blue fabric which he ripped in half. "This is all I can find."

"That's fine; that's fine… here, I'll hold her," Cristina said and Meredith felt her own head being lifted slightly off the ground. A second later, a set of frantic hands which likely belonged to Mark were wrapping the dressing around her skull.

"Is that okay?"

"It'll have to be," Cristina said. "Mer… Mer, can you hear me?"

Meredith swallowed hard before answering. "I… I can hear you…"

"Okay, well… just stay there for a second. You need to make sure you're… I don't know… God, I don't know. Can you see my hand? Can you see how many fingers I'm holding up?" Cristina pressed.

Slowly, Meredith opened her eyes and looked at the blurry shapes that had been presented in front of her. "I… I don't know, um… four? Five?"

Cristina cursed, so clearly Meredith's answer had been wrong. "Look, um… let's… let's fix the rest. What else hurts? Can you focus on anything else besides your head?"

It was Meredith's head that was causing the majority of the pain but through the misery, she was able to feel something on her upper left thigh. "Um… this… this hurts…"

With some help from Mark, Meredith finally managed to drag herself into a sitting position and when she did, she realized that there was a large piece of metal sticking out of her upper left thigh. She did not know how Cristina and Mark had not seen it and there was a likely a better way to extract the sharp object but Meredith was not completely in the right state of mind. She pulled the metal out with one quick tug and along with it, came a fountain of blood, gushing out of Meredith's leg like a geyser.

"Crap!" Cristina shouted; she darted forward and pressed down on Meredith's leg to provide compression. "Crap, crap… why the hell did you do that, Mer?!"

"I… don't know," Meredith admitted; she was becoming increasingly lightheaded from the blood loss.

From behind, Mark was still allowing Meredith to lean up against him for support but he was also rushing around, desperately attempting to find something to use as a tourniquet. When he was apparently unsuccessful, Meredith felt him rip his own scrub top into pieces and toss them towards Cristina. "Here, see if this'll hold her off."

"Yeah, okay," Cristina acknowledged and Meredith felt something tight wrap around her leg, right above where the pain was the worst. "Okay… okay, how's that feel, Mer?"

"It feels… I don't know… it feels the same I guess…"

Someone rubbed Meredith's bandaged head, softly. "Okay… don't worry; you're gonna be okay. You're gonna be fine."

"W-We gotta find… we gotta find… Derek and… and Lexie," Meredith repeated.

"Yeah, we will," Mark said. "We'll find them. You need to take a breather though, first, okay? You might still have other injuries we don't know about… can you wiggle your fingers and toes for me?"

Meredith took a deep steadying breath and then moved her toes slightly. It was hard to see because her feet were covered with her usual sneakers but Mark must have seen movement of some kind because he did not sound too concerned. And then Meredith moved onto her fingers and waved them around.

"Okay, good. You're good; you're okay," Mark said.

"Are… are you… okay?" Meredith whispered. She found it hard to believe that anyone could survive a plane crash with no injuries whatsoever but stranger things had happened.

Mark smiled in a good-natured way; it was the same grin that he gave to patients in the emergency room when he was trying to convince them that their injuries were not as bad as they thought. "Nothing that's gonna keep me down long. Honestly… honestly, right now, I feel great."

There was a good chance that that was not going to last, of course. Mark had to be aware of that. Everyone knew about adrenaline and how many times, patients that came into the Seattle Grace emergency room were awake and confident that they were not injured at all. It was only once their heartbeats returned to normal that the accident victims bled-out and coded.

_We could all be dying,_ Meredith realized. There was a true possibility that Lexie and Derek were already dead and even if they were still alive, that might not last. Any one of the surgeons could be bleeding internally at the moment but their adrenaline was preventing them from feeling the full extent of their pain.

But then again, what could the doctors do even if they knew exactly where each other were bleeding? There were no scalpels nearby, no sanitary operating rooms or suction machines. They were trapped in the middle of the woods and the sky was falling.

Meredith did not notice until Cristina had returned to her side that she had left at all, perhaps to tend to Arizona who had, at least, stopped screaming. Cristina placed her good hand on Meredith's shoulder, softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Um… I'm… I'm okay. I'm better," Meredith lied. She was hyperventilating, truly and completely scared out of her mind like she had been only once before, during the shooting. But Cristina and Mark had fixed the obvious problems. Yes, there were likely more, something as simple as a bad bruise or as complicated as a brain bleed. If Meredith was dying, though, then it was going to be her mission to find Lexie and Derek before she died.

"Are you sure?" Cristina said. "Does anything else hurt?"

"No," Meredith said. "At least… not yet… I'm fine. We should g-go now… we should go look for… for Derek and Lexie. They… they have to b-be here… somewhere, right?"

Cristina and Mark looked at each other and then the latter shrugged. "I mean… yeah, we're gonna go look, Mer… for sure. But maybe you should stay here. Stay with Arizona; she can't walk either."

Meredith glared at them. "Do you… do you really think you… g-guys are going to… to go look for my husband and sister and… I'm n-not going… to come? I can walk. I'm fine. H-Help me up."

It was actually easier than Meredith expected. She was still dizzy but with one quick tug, Mark was able to pull Meredith to her feet and she managed to remain vertical. Maybe it was because Meredith was blocking out all of her physical pain. She could feel her pain, she could suffer and die once Derek and Lexie were found.

As they trudged through the forest, Meredith leaning on Mark for assistance, she tried to search for landmarks. It was hard because her vision was still blurry but Meredith knew that no matter what happened to Derek and Lexie, none of the surgeons could afford to get lost. They had to eventually be able to find their way back to the plane wreckage where Arizona was, along with all of their supplies.

"DEREK! LEXIE! DEREK! LEXIE!" the trio of doctors screamed constantly but Meredith was so afraid that they were not loud enough. Derek and Lexie could be anywhere and Meredith's voice was not strong to begin with… what if they were not heard? What if the group never found each other?

But then again, how far could have Derek and Lexie traveled if they were honestly still alive? Derek had been sucked out the side of a plane, according to Cristina and Lexie was sitting in the back of the plane which had fallen off. How far up was the plane when the back had fallen off? It was, at the very least, on top of the trees…

"DEREK! LEXIE! DEREK! LEXIE!"

Meredith paused approximately ten minutes into their hike and leaned up against a tree. Her vision was going black. She had to rest or else she was going to pass-out… and it was just in that moment that Meredith's breathing quieted that she heard it… a soft, clanking noise and it could not be far away.

"Do you… do you… h-hear that?" she panted.

"Yeah… yeah, it's coming from over there somewhere," Mark said, pointing to their right.

There was no time to waste; Meredith and the others started moving again. It did not take long before they arrived at another pile of wreckage that looked like the rear end of the plane… could that mean that Lexie was nearby and making that sound?

Meredith inched closer to the wreckage and that is when she saw it. There was a person on the ground, her bottom half trapped underneath a large piece of machinery. The person had long, dark, tangled hair and she was weakly banging a seatbelt around to try and be heard. It was Meredith's little sister.

Mark must have known at the same time. "LEXIE!"

The three surgeons hurried down a short hill and then knelt beside Lexie who was gasping for air, her face pale white and covered in blood. "I… I knew… you'd show up."

Meredith leaned over her sister, in an attempt to assess injuries but was immediately shoved aside by Mark who was frantic. He felt Lexie's carotid artery to measure her pulse. "You're okay. You're okay, Lex; I'm right here. Er… d-do you know where you are?!"

"Um… I'm… I… I don't know… the… the plane… it… it fell… off," Lexie said.

"She's tachycardic and short of breath," Cristina whispered and she bent over, too, to assist Mark.

"Okay, how are you feeling down there?" Mark asked.

Lexie coughed and blood trickled out of her mouth. "Um… I'm… I'm great! I'm… awake and… and alert."

"Yeah? Good girl," Mark said but Meredith rolled her eyes. Lexie was not _great _and if Mark honestly believed her, then he was hopelessly blinded by love.

Cristina looked annoyed too, so she got on the other side of Lexie, away from Mark. "Okay, Lexie… since your ex is being an idiot, I need you to give me a rundown."

"Uh… both tibias… are broken. I think… m-my… my pelvis or… or my hip is… fractured, too," Lexie admitted before Mark could open his mouth. "M-My head was… g-gushing b-blood so… I'm g-guessing… some kinda… open… skull fracture. M-My… chest… feels like… it's g-gonna… explode. I… I think… my lung… collapsed and… and m-maybe a… a hemothorax. I… I can't… feel my… left arm and… and I d-don't… even know if… if it's… still… there."

"I can see your left arm… it's… it's still there," Meredith assured her, doing all she could to keep her own breathing under control. She did not want to worry Lexie who already appeared to be in shock but that was nearly impossible. Lexie was not an idiot and she had to know that there was a good chance she was dying.

Lexie could not die. She was 28 years old and she was Meredith's little sister. She was Lexie…

"Okay… t-that's… that's g-good! So… so… I g-guess all that's… left is… to… get this… off of… m-me?"

Mark nodded. "Yeah, come on, guys. We can do this together. Once she's stabilized… someone will need to run back to the plane. She needs water bottles; get all the water bottles you can carry and… and see if there's a first-aid kit. "

"Okay, but first I need someone to pop my shoulder back into place," Cristina said.

"Right, right, right. I'll do it," Mark volunteered. "Are you ready?"

Cristina momentarily froze. "No, hold on… okay, okay, do it!"

With one strong snap, Mark popped Cristina's shoulder back into its socket. Cristina screamed loudly; it doubtlessly hurt like hell and Lexie flinched out of fear.

Meredith smiled at her sister, trying to be encouraging for once. "Okay, now we're… we're gonna get you outta there… okay, Lex?"

"Okay, g-great," Lexie said.

"Yeah, so this is what we're gonna do," Mark said and stepped forward as leader again. "Mer, you and I are gonna push up on this thing as hard as we can. It doesn't matter if you pull a muscle or anything; we'll fix that later. We'll probably only be able to hold it for a second so when we do, then Cristina… you're gonna grab Lexie and pull her out."

Meredith nodded shortly in agreement; she was not going to be able to think of a better plan and Cristina whispered, "Okay."

All at once, their strategy was launched into motion. There were no more chances to be afraid; Mark yelled out, "One… two… three!"

Meredith pushed up on the plane wreckage as hard as she possibly could. She was naturally petite, small in stature and not very strong and that was all true when she had not just been in a plane crash. Needless to say, Meredith was unable to contribute much but somehow, Mark managed to lift the metal a fraction of an inch and Lexie gasped as the pressure was relieved.

Cristina tugged on Lexie quickly and had barely slid her out of harm's way when Mark and Meredith's strength gave out. Meredith collapsed; she was definitely going to pass-out now.

She was not sure if she did or not… Meredith's vision had gone black, that was for certain but she had a feeling she remained conscious the entire time before Cristina's arms were around her shoulders.

"Mer… Mer, talk to me!"

"...Ouch…" Meredith moaned and squeezed her eyes shut to control the dizziness.

"I know, you're okay. Just um… sit there and rest for a minute, okay? I'm gonna go get the water and… and the first aid kit and everything."

"Get one of the oxygen tanks, too. There's oxygen on a plane," Mark said. "And hurry!"

Cristina took off. After a few more seconds, Meredith was able to sit up, too, and she looked at Mark who was cradling Lexie, her head on his lap. "Is she… is she… okay?"

"She's losing a lot of blood. It looks like a depressed skull fracture and her legs are broken… arm's definitely got some nerve damage. I really hope she's wrong, for once… wrong about that hemothorax," Mark said.

Whether or not Lexie had a hemothorax, though, there was nothing that could be done for it until Cristina made it back with the supplies and even then, Meredith was not so sure about their odds. A hemothorax was an urgent medical emergency and difficult to treat in a proper hospital.

Still, Meredith tried to think optimistically, for Lexie. She attempted to block out the probable impending doom and that was easy enough because all Meredith really could do before Cristina returned was lean up against a tree and continue breathing. Meredith's head hurt so badly. Ever since freeing Lexie from the wreckage, her vision had remained blurry and her abdomen was throbbing.

_You probably strained your cartilage while you were saving Lexie. You probably have fractured ribs, _Meredith told herself. It was impossible to believe herself, however, when the more likely scenario was that Meredith's true pain was beginning to register, her adrenaline fading.

Maybe all of the surgeons were suffering from massive internal bleeding. If they were, a rescue team had to find them within the next hour or two to have any hope of survival.

Cristina stumbled back to the miniature campsite ten minutes later, a thin, green oxygen tank tucked under her good arm and water bottles stuffed in her scrub pockets. "This is all I could find… I have some gauze, a kind of… bandaging stuff but… I couldn't find any other first-aid stuff. The pilot thinks it probably got destroyed."

"Great," Meredith muttered.

"Yeah, well… at least we got water. We got water and… and oxygen," Mark said, although it was obvious that he was panicking as well. "Let's get her hooked up to the oxygen and then… and then, Yang, you can look at her chest, see what's going on."

"Y-Yeah, Lexie said… she said she thought… she might have a hemothorax," Meredith said. "And you're the… the cardio g-goddess. It's time to… to test your… skills."

"I'm not a cardio goddess yet, Mer… and… and there's nothing I could do for a hemothorax…"

"Yes, you are! R-Right now… you are… Cristina. Teddy trusted you… she trusted you enough to send you… to B-Boise as… as the sole… r-representative… for cardio. And right now… you have to believe… you're a cardio goddess… for my… little sister!" Meredith demanded.

Cristina had to know that; she nodded and rubbed her forehead, thinking. "Okay, okay… if it's a hemothorax, then she needs a chest tube and we have to drain the blood but there's no needles or tubing…"

Mark, who had just finished securing an oxygen mask over Lexie's nose and mouth, grabbed her scrub top and began tearing the fabric. "We're gonna look at her chest… let's… let's just start there."

It was better than nothing. Meredith assisted Mark in easing the shirt off of Lexie and then, ignoring the fact that her sister was sure to be embarrassed later, also removed her white, lacy bra so that she was bare. The damage was evident. Not only was Lexie's chest swollen and distended, but the skin on her left side was red and bruised, right around the area where her heart was located. It was a miracle that Lexie was still alive at all.

"It's… it's a hemothorax," Meredith said, her voice breaking with hopelessness.

"No, it's… well, maybe it's that, too but I think it's cardiac tamponade. It looks like the pericardium's about to burst," Cristina said.

"Are you sure?!" Mark pressed.

"I'm… 75 percent… no, 70 percent sure," Cristina said.

"Hell, no! No, that's not sure enough!"

"Well, if you want me to be sure, get me an ultrasound!"

Meredith ignored them both. "If we don't do anything… if we don't drain the… the p-pericardial sac and… and relieve the p-pressure… her heart is g-gonna stop. It'll… it'll explode."

"Drain her blood? With what? We don't even have an 18-gauge spinal needle," Mark said.

Meredith spun around, desperately and spotted a half-empty suitcase nearby which must have been tossed from the aircraft and landed near the back half of the plane. She tore through it and found a bottle of hairspray in Cristina's bag that had a tube inside. "We'll… um… take the top off this… use the tube; it's… it's better than nothing."

"Brilliant," Cristina acknowledged. "Sanitize it, Mer… I have some hand sanitizer in my pocket… and then either you or Mark should do it. I don't trust myself with this… this shoulder and my collarbone."

Mark scoffed. "I haven't touched a cardiac case in ten years and now isn't exactly the time to see if I remember my skills. This is all you, Meredith."

"B-But… but she's my sister!" Meredith cried.

"Doesn't matter. We're not operating under HIPAA right now. Unless you want your sister to die, you need to get in there and you need to fix her. Do you really wanna waste time arguing or do you wanna save your sister's life?" Mark asked.

"Fine… fine, I'll do it," Meredith said. There were not many options, at the moment. She wiped some of Cristina's hand sanitizer over the tubing and prayed that it was enough. "So… so what am I supposed to use to get in if we don't have a needle?"

This time, Mark was left speechless as well, but thankfully, Cristina was not. "We have a knife. I found one in the cabinet by the water. I know it won't be like a scalpel but it'll do the job."

Their plan had passed improbable and crossed into the land of impossible, in Meredith's opinion. She glanced at Mark whose face was white. "You want to dig into Lexie's chest with a hunting knife?!"

"What are our other options here, Mark?!" Cristina yelled and she removed the knife from her coat pocket. The weapon was not meant for anything except self-defense. Cristina was right, though; there were no other options so Meredith took the knife from her friend and positioned herself over Lexie, her hands quivering.

"Get yourself under control, Grey!" Mark warned. "You keep shaking like that, you're gonna kill her!"

"Okay, you… shut up. Mer needs to concentrate," Cristina ordered.

Mark pressed his face closer to Lexie's chest. "Is the tubing long enough?"

"I think so… I'm going in, um… subxiphoid," Meredith said.

"Are you sure? Grey, are you 100 percent sure about this?!"

Meredith tried to ignore him but regardless, the pressure to perform a medical procedure correctly had never been so high. Meredith knew that Lexie was still halfway conscious and she hated herself for what she was about to do to her little sister. She took a deep, steadying breath.

"Alright, Lexie, I… I need you to try not to move…"

Carefully, Meredith inserted the tip of the knife into the chest and without any anesthesia, Lexie instantly began screaming and thrashing.

Mark reacted before Meredith could. "WHAT DID YOU DO?! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO HER?!"

"HOLD HER, PLEASE!" Meredith begged and somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought she could hear Cristina comforting Lexie, telling her that it was going to be okay.

Mark was continuing to scream, his face inches from Meredith's hand. "LEXIE! LEXIE! OH MY GOD, COME ON… LEXIE, YOU GOTTA STAY WITH ME!"

"Aim for her left shoulder," Cristina instructed as Meredith began to weave the tubing inside.

"GOD DAMMIT, MEREDITH; DON'T PUNCTURE HER HEART!" Mark yelled.

"I know, I know, I know…"

Meredith pushed the plastic a fraction of an inch further and as soon as she did, she knew that she had done it. The tube filled quickly with Lexie's blood which sprayed outwards, covering all six surgeons and their surrounding area like a crime scene.

_**Okay that's it for now! Chapter 3 will be coming soon (we should find out where Derek is in that one) so in the meantime, leave reviews and favorite! Love you all.**_


	3. Waiting On the World to Change

_**Author's Note- Here is Chapter 3, everyone! Thank you so much for all of the continued amazing reviews. They keep me so motivated to continue writing. Also, I am really doing my best to make this a believable story. I know a lot of the stuff that happens in Grey's Anatomy is crazy and unlikely (which is fine lol) but just know I am doing my best to make all the injuries both believable for a plane crash and survivable. If you have any advice though, feel free to let me know! All I ask is that you please be kind because I am doing my best. Thank you again for everything… ENJOY!**_

"You did it, Mer," Cristina said as Lexie began breathing easier.

"A-Are you sure?" Meredith asked weakly; now that the hard part was over, reality kicked in. Her hands were shaking; her entire body was shaking at what she had just done.

"Yeah, we just need to bandage her up now," Cristina said. "I have some duct tape."

Meredith reached into the pile of supplies and found the gauze to which Cristina had previously referred. "Okay, I've got the… the bandages… Mark, can you help… p-please?"

Mark had stopped speaking but he was able to do as Meredith told. He spread the small amount of gauze they had over Lexie's chest and then used the duct tape to secure it. Cristina lent Lexie a Stanford hoodie to keep her warm, for the time being.

Slowly but surely, with the help of her oxygen, Lexie's breathing evened out. To say that she was stable was stretching things a mile but she was not in immediate danger. Meredith dropped all the utensils she had been holding. "Oh, God… oh… Oh, God…"

"It's… it's okay. You saved her, Meredith. She's… she's gonna be okay now," Cristina said. Her statement would have been more believable if her voice was not coming out in an unnaturally high, wavering pitch.

Meredith shook her head. "We… we don't know that. We fixed… a… a small part of her… b-bleeding. She could be bleeding a lot more and… and…"

"Well, she's okay for right now," Mark finally said in a careful tone and Meredith realized that Lexie was awake, her eyes open and afraid.

"Right, um… and… and we have water," Meredith said. "Lexie, d-do you feel like… like you could… drink?"

Lexie nodded shortly so Meredith helped her lean forward while Mark fed her the water like a baby. It worked; Lexie quickly sucked down the entire bottle and then Mark replaced her oxygen mask.

"While we're at it, do you wanna put some water on your burn?" Cristina asked and it took Meredith a moment to realize that she was talking to Mark.

"Nah. It's really not too bad right now. We'll reassess in a little while," Mark said.

Meredith blinked a few times and focused her blurry vision on the plastic surgeon. "W-What happened… did you um… you g-got burned?"

"Well, I got knocked out when we crashed, just like everyone did, I think," Mark explained. "When I woke-up, I was… on fire. There were a bunch of small fires at first from the explosion. Yang helped me put it out. It really doesn't hurt so far but… I mean…"

Mark trailed off; he clearly did not need to say anymore and Meredith closed her eyes again.

"It's kind of funny, though, isn't it?" Mark continued with an amused smile on his face. "I mean, I'm the plastic surgeon and I got burned. I might need skin grafts. Do you think they'd let me operate on myself?"

Lexie giggled, softly. At the very least, Mark was keeping her in relatively good spirits. Meredith chimed in, too: "D-Do you remember… the first time I met you? You… you didn't know who I was and… and you were flirting and… and Derek… knocked you h-halfway… across the lobby. You w-wouldn't… let me do… your… stitches. I… held the mirror and… and you stitched… yourself."

"Of course I did. I wasn't going to let a first-year intern put her hands on this face, was I?" Mark said and Lexie grunted, like she was trying to laugh.

"I mean, they'll find us… soon, r-right?" Meredith said, moments later. "They'll know we're… g-gone."

"Yeah, Arizona talked with the pilot. He said that cause of the transmission box or something, the airlines will notice we're missing right away. They can map our location and should find us in no more than four hours," Cristina said.

_Four hours…_ that was good. That was doable. If the surgeons were rescued four hours from when the plane went down, there was a decent shot that they could be rushed into surgery before their internal organs failed.

"Okay, that's easy," Mark said and he grinned. "You can hang on like, two more hours, can't you, Lex?"

"Y-Yeah… yeah, totally," Lexie agreed but she was hyperventilating again and her eyes were huge. If she was still bleeding internally, then the faster her pulse raced, the more blood she was going to lose.

Meredith crawled forward. "Lexie… I know it's scary. But you need to… to try and calm down. We're all right here with… you and we're g-going… we're going to… d-do everything we can… for you."

It was a cliche statement, the same statement that all surgeons gave their patients before a big procedure and Lexie knew that. But all the same, her overall frantic demeanor toned down. She took some deep breaths and pushed her bangs out of her face. "Is everyone else… okay?"

"We're all fine," Mark promised. "I got a few burns but that's no big deal. Cristina has a broken collarbone and a dislocated shoulder; that'll heal. Big Grey, you doing okay over there?"

Meredith nodded weakly, pushing her own probable internal bleeding out of her mind. "Y-Yeah… I'm… I'm fine, Lexie. Just um… just a few b-bumps and… bruises. Nothing some m-morphine won't… be able to fix."

There was the issue of Derek, who was still out in the forest somewhere, dead or alive. Now that Lexie was accounted for, all Meredith wanted to do was jump up and search for him but she knew better than to think she could walk ten steps without passing out right now. In the meantime, she tried to focus her mind on something else and it fell on Arizona.

"W-What about… Arizona; is she okay? Does… everyone… anyone… know?"

"Her femur is sticking out of her leg but… I guess she's okay. She's alive," Mark said. And then he started whispering with Lexie some more, gently stroking her hair and calming her respirations.

Cristina scooted over on the ground, closer to Meredith. "How's the head?"

"It's… okay. I'm okay," Meredith said.

"Please… you got knocked out. We all did. We probably all have brain bleeds; I'm so dizzy from running back to the plane, I… I think I'm gonna throw-up," Cristina admitted.

That would not be good because any loss of body fluids, at this point, could be fatal. But Meredith was feeling nauseous, too. "We gotta… t-try to keep it down."

Cristina nodded and closed her eyes. "God, we've gotta get out of here."

"We've got to… to find D-Derek," Meredith said. "I need to… go look for him. Maybe… m-maybe if we go together, we could… I don't know, go faster."

"You can't get up right now, Mer. Trust me, I can tell you're about to pass-out; your face is pale white. All we need is for you to get lost out in the woods and eaten by a bear," Cristina said.

There were probably any number of wild animals out here but Meredith tried not to think about that either. "B-But… what if… we can't let… D-Derek get… get eaten by a… bear either!"

At this outrageous statement, Mark glanced up from his conversation with Lexie. "Yeah, how is Derek, Mer? Is he stable?"

"I… I don't know. We stopped with… with Lexie and… no one can… can find him," Meredith whispered.

Mark's face went pale, too. "You mean no one's seen him at all since the plane went down?"

"I… saw him. I saw him get sucked out the side of the plane when we hit the trees but… but that's all I know," Cristina said.

It was this image of Derek flying through the trees, injured and alone, that forced Meredith to her feet. "I gotta look. I gotta keep… keep going. I won't go too far. Just… just… if a chopper comes, tell them… tell them I'm alive so they can pick me up… and then look… for D-Derek."

Cristina looked like she was going to argue but Meredith did not care. She grabbed a small, nearby tree branch that had fallen to the earth and used it as a makeshift hiking stick. Meredith was a few steps into the woods, gasping and panting for air, when Mark jogged up next to her.

"I'm coming with you. Cristina is staying with Lexie, for now. She said she'll be able to scream loud if anything happens. You holding up okay?"

Meredith's pain was getting worse; it was entirely consuming her from her head to her abdomen to her ankles but she nodded. "I'm… I'm okay. We've gotta… find Derek."

"Yeah, we do," Mark agreed and then took a deep breath and yelled loudly, "DEREK!"

They walked and walked for what felt like forever, or maybe it was just Meredith's intense pain that was making everything seem like an eternity. Every few steps, she had to pause and catch her breath… fight the nausea… remind herself that Derek was waiting for her… she could not give up now… it did not matter that her abdomen was making it hard to breathe or that Meredith was still bleeding profusely… she could die once she found Derek and got him back to the crash site…

Eventually, Meredith could take it no longer. Her mind was still reeling from the fact that she was in a plane crash at all and seeing her little sister in the state that she had did not help. Meredith was dizzy, confused, anxious and terrified. She grasped onto a tree, hunched over, and then retched and vomited onto the ground.

Mark rushed over, held back Meredith's hair, and rubbed her on the back, gently. "Hey… you're okay, you're okay. Let's stop for a second; you need to breathe."

As much as Meredith wanted to fight, again, she had no room to argue. Narrowly missing the pool of her own vomit, Meredith collapsed and moaned out loud before she could help it. Throwing-up had been the most torturous activity yet; it had sent shockwaves of pain through her torso.

Carefully, Mark sat down next to Meredith and helped her lean her head onto his shoulder. "There you go… you're pushing yourself too hard, Grey. You won't be doing Derek any favors if you die trying to find him."

"I… I know," Meredith said; she coughed again and clutched onto her stomach. This time, she instinctively raised her hand to her mouth and caught what appeared to be diluted blood coming up. Yes, Meredith was almost certainly hemorrhaging internally.

"Damn," Mark said; he had seen the blood as well. He stroked Meredith's hair, gently. "We need to go back to camp. You need to drink some water and then we can go back out and look some more later."

Meredith shook her head. "N-No… I can't… I can't… leave him."

"You're not leaving him. In fact, you better not tell him about this or else he'll probably beat the shit out of me," Mark said and it took Meredith a second to realize that he was referring to the way that he was holding her.

She smiled, weakly, a bit late. "I… I wanna keep looking… it just… it hurts… so bad…"

"I know. I know it does," Mark said. "Now, hold on tight."

In one quick movement, Mark swept Meredith up into his arms. It would be a strange scene for Derek to come across but absolutely nothing romantic or sexual was near Meredith's mind. In fact, she could barely think of anything at all as Mark carried her through the forest, her head resting on his shoulder.

"I need you to stay with me, Grey, okay?"

Mark's voice was fading away and Meredith closed her eyes. "Keep talking to me…"

"Oh my God. Oh my God; what happened?!"

"She started throwing-up about twenty minutes ago. It was bad; there was blood coming out. She wanted to keep looking but she was in too much pain; she couldn't stand up so… so yeah, I took over."

"Oh, God," Cristina's voice repeated. "Is she conscious?"

"No, she lost consciousness a couple minutes after I picked her up. I've been trying to get her to talk but… but she's out," Mark said. "Pulse is sky-high."

Part of Meredith felt herself being lowered onto the grass and then frantic hands were lifting up her scrub top and examining her abdomen. "S-Stop, Mark… D-Derek will… be mad if… you do that."

"It's not Mark, it's Cristina and three of your ribs have full breaks; they're sticking out," a female voice said but then she snorted at Meredith's remark. "Can you hear me, Mer? Do you know where you are?"

"I'm in… a p-plane crash," Meredith whispered. "We can't… find him… D-Derek. We looked… everywhere."

There was a pause and Meredith was not brave enough to open her eyes and see Cristina's actual expression but she sighed. "Maybe… he's fine. Maybe he went for help."

"Maybe… but I gotta… keep looking," Meredith said and she tried to lean forward and get up.

"No, no, no. You need to stop. You're really, really hurt, Meredith and Derek would not want you to kill yourself for him," Cristina said.

Finally, Meredith eased her eyes open and found herself surrounded by doctors; Cristina and Mark were sitting-up, on either side of her and Lexie was lying nearby.

"You need to try and drink some water, Meredith," Cristina said and she held out another one of the bottles she had brought from the primary crash site.

For a split second, Meredith wondered if she should drink the water. She might be dying anyway and if she was, all she would be doing is taking away fluids from someone else. But then she remembered the transmitter and how the rescue team would be here soon and she drained the entire bottle in seconds.

"There you go… you're gonna be okay," Mark said. "And Lexie, you're gonna be fine, too. I promise, I won't let anything happen to my Grey girls."

Lexie grinned through her pain. And Meredith tried to, but she could not be relieved yet. There was still a good shot that her internal organs were spewing blood. If that was the case, she might not make it to a hospital before bleeding out. But still, Meredith would take that deal if it meant that Derek could live and go home to Zola.

Derek was out there, somewhere… dead or alive… _Derek Shepherd had to exist…_

When Meredith woke-up several hours later, she was initially surprised. She had not expected to wake-up; she had anticipated death in her sleep as a result of internal bleeding. But here she was, opening her eyes on the forest floor, the sky turning a light shade of pink. There was a clear, oxygen mask covering Meredith's mouth and nose, as well. Maybe her internal hemorrhage, wherever it was, was a slow bleed.

Her body still throbbing with pain beyond measure, Meredith looked around. Cristina was sitting next to her, and it appeared that Mark, Lexie, and Arizona were all resting nearby. Someone, probably Mark, had carried her back to the primary campsite by the front of the plane. Meredith got the others' attention by moaning softly.

"Meredith?" Cristina's voice called instantly. "Mer, can you hear me?"

"Yeah, I'm… I'm alive," Meredith confirmed; her tone sounded surprised, too.

"Yeah, it looks like it," Cristina said and sighed heavily. "I really hope that means you're not bleeding because Jerry thinks that the transmitter got damaged in the crash. It's been more than four hours and no one's been out here to find us."

It had not sunk in yet for Meredith but she suddenly realized that of course, that was the case. The sky was turning pink; it was dusk and the plane had crashed at approximately 8:00 in the morning. If the transmitter had been damaged, then the surgeons could be out in the woods for days before anyone found them.

Just as Meredith was about to bubble over with panic, though, Cristina took a steadying breath and held her shoulder. "It's okay. We were supposed to land in Boise a long time ago. Owen will figure out that we're missing soon and he'll send a rescue team out."

That was true as well; unless a dozen traumas were currently being rolled into the Seattle Grace ER, Owen had to realize that something was wrong. Still, there was no way of knowing if the rescuers would find the surgeons in time because despite Cristina's words, Meredith was sure that she was bleeding internally in some way or another. She had vomited blood, after all.

"Help me… help me sit up," Meredith requested and Cristina offered her good arm. With one quick tug, Meredith was in a sitting position and she gazed around at the other doctors.

Lexie appeared a bit better than she did earlier; Mark had probably carried her over to the campsite as well. Her legs were propped up in the air, one of the surgeons' suitcase keeping them elevated. Meredith realized for the first time that her nose was also broken in addition to her arm and legs.

Half of Arizona's face was covered in cuts but she was sitting up and sipping on a bottle of water. She had a Seattle Grace jacket over her leg which was apparently open and exposed to the bone. At the very least, she was not screaming anymore so that was good.

Cristina did not have any life-threatening injuries so she was looking about the same as she did before Meredith had passed out, and it was only Mark that honestly appeared worse for wear. He had obtained a new t-shirt, a simple black one from his luggage, but he was leaned up against the plane wreckage, doubtlessly in pain.

"W-What happened, Mark? Burns… start hurting?" Meredith guessed.

"They don't feel great," Mark admitted. "But I've had worse."

Meredith was not sure if that was true; she could not remember Mark ever getting hurt in the past but he was probably trying to keep Lexie from worrying. Either way, thus far, it seemed that everyone except for Derek was accounted for… and everyone except for Meredith and Lexie had at least a decent shot of surviving this nightmare.

"I… I want to go now… go look for Derek some more," Meredith told Cristina. "Trust me, I'm… b-better."

Cristina's expression was filled with doubt. "No, I want to wait until we know you're not bleeding, Mer. You've already lost a ton of blood and… and I'm naming myself your temporary doctor."

"And… and what are we gonna do… if I am bleeding?" Meredith asked. "Open me up?"

"I don't know but we can at least keep you from doing more damage. Owen will be here soon, Mer, and when he is, then we can look for Derek a lot faster from the helicopter," Cristina said.

There was nothing Meredith could say to that, especially considering the fact that she was barely managing to remain conscious as it was… she leaned back against the plane wreckage with everyone else and tried not to think about how cold the air was becoming. It was April but the temperature still dropped a lot in the Pacific Northwest, particularly at night.

Hopefully, Owen and his helicopter would make an appearance sooner rather than later because there were no blankets or heaters on the plane. All the surgeons had to keep warm were their travel coats from Seattle Grace and any clothes that they had packed in their suitcases, which was not much considering the short amount of time they were supposed to be in Boise.

Hours ticked by, far too slowly but at the same time, far too quickly. By 8:00, according to her watch, Meredith was shivering from the cold and the constant movement made her injuries ache worse. There were still no signs of civilization.

Derek had not gone for help. Meredith knew that in her heart. Cristina kept suggesting the idea, mostly to keep Meredith calm, but the latter knew that if Derek had gone for help, he would have come to find the other doctors first. He would have made sure that Meredith, at least, was alive.

"I don't think Derek went for help," Meredith said at one point when she thought that Cristina seemed more realistic but the cardiac surgeon just shook her head.

"I don't understand how this keeps happening. We keep dying. We're in a plane crash, Mer, like right now."

Meredith ignored her. "If he went for help… if Derek had gone for help… he would have… sent a message or something. I mean… we have to find him."

"I can tell you one thing. When we get out of here, I am getting the hell away from Seattle Grace Mercy Death and I'm never looking back!" Cristina's voice was raising to a shout.

There was no energy left in Meredith's system to yell so she did not answer but then a few minutes later, the worry consumed her completely. For the first time, she began crying. "I… I think Derek is… is dead. He w-would've come for… us… by now. He d-definitely… would have come for us by now. I think… he's dead and… I think Lexie's gonna… d-die and… I think we're b-b-bleeding… internally and… we're all… going to die out here, too. We are gonna… die out here!"

"Keep it together!" Cristina snapped, interrupting Meredith's panic attack.

"N-No, you keep it… together! I'm… I'm trying here but my… husband is dead and… and my sister is gonna die… we all m-might die… there's no way we can… stop something… something like a b-brain bleed… out here!"

"Keep it together anyway… keep it together anyway," Cristina repeated.

Meredith bit her lip and attempted to do as she was told. "Do you… think… D-Derek is dead?"

"I don't know… maybe," Cristina confessed and then shook her head again. "But I've got PTSD so you know I'm not reliable!"

"You're still my person, Cristina… even if… I'm not yours!" Meredith said and then she started sobbing all over again.

A gentle hand touched her face. "Meredith… Mer, I know. I just can't think that way right now. You know, if there's one thing I've learned from all the bombs and the guns to my head and the busses running down my friends is that I'm not interested in dying. I want to get out of here and I want to go home. And I don't want you to die."

"I'm… I'm not saying I… I wanna die, Cristina. I'm not… suicidal like I was before. B-But my husband is out there… somewhere… d-dead or alive. And I… I have to find him. Think if… if it was Owen," Meredith insisted.

There was a pause. Meredith glared at her friend and Cristina stared back. "I don't know, Mer. Even if you find Derek, I don't think there's anything you could do for him right now. You can't carry him; you can barely carry yourself and we have no idea if there's wild animals out here or anything."

They were in the middle of the woods, either in eastern Washington or western Idaho so the possibility of there being wild animals was strong. But Meredith and the others were surgeons, healers. They could not just leave Derek out there to fend for himself.

Meredith looked towards Mark. "Then we'll go... together… like… like before. Come on, Mark. He's… your best friend; don't you… w-want to find him?"

"Of course I do, Mer, but… but I don't think we should go now," Mark sighed. "We should wait until the morning. If we go now, we're all gonna get lost out there and we don't have flashlights or anything."

There was a muffled sound from the cockpit and Meredith glanced up there just as the pilot, Jerry, stuck his head out of the window. "There should be… a lantern. Wherever you guys got… the water. There should be a lantern in there, if you can find it."

Meredith jumped to her feet; the dizziness was still there but she kept it together, just as Cristina told her to… she climbed into the demolished insides of the airplane and dug around in the cabinets until she found a small, black lantern and a pack of batteries. There were also a few more bottles of water but she left those where they were for now, because depending on how long it took Owen to find them, they might need fluids later.

"Okay, so… so we have a lantern and spare b-batteries," Meredith said, doing her best to at least speak normally. "What's your guys' excuse for… for not looking for D-Derek now?"

Arizona shrugged. "I mean… I have a broken femur so…"

"Right, I don't mean you," Meredith said and rolled her eyes. "And I don't mean you, either, Lexie; you need to rest. But Mark, Cristina… come on. Where's the loyalty?"

Mark had tears in his eyes, probably at the thought of losing Derek, but he still shook his head. "I… I'm sorry, Grey. I want to find him, trust me. But I think we should wait until the morning when we can see better. If we go now, chances are, all that will happen is that we won't find him and we'll get lost, too. I'm staying with Lexie."

So Meredith looked towards Cristina one more time, a pleading expression on her face. "Please, Cristina. Think if it was Owen. If Owen's your person… you would want to find Owen; you'd do anything!"

"I would want to find Owen and I do want to find Derek, Meredith," Cristina said. "But I wouldn't do anything. I wouldn't risk my own life. If I die, then who's going to keep the rest of you guys alive?"

Meredith opened her mouth to say that they were all doctors and that Mark seemed to be healthy enough but her words were interrupted by a sudden, loud buzzing noise from overhead. She stopped short and Jerry stuck his head out of the cockpit again, just in time to beat everyone to the announcement.

"CHOPPER!"

It was a helicopter! Owen must have realized that the surgeons never made it to Boise and sent out a rescue team. This was perfect; everyone could pile onto the helicopter and then search for Derek by air; they would find him much faster.

But it did not look like the rescue team had spotted the surgeons yet. The chopper was still high in the air, not focused on them at all so Cristina and Meredith both began jumping up and down, dizziness be damned, and screamed as loud as they could.

"There should be a flare gun, too!" Jerry yelled from the cockpit where he was trapped. "Get it from the cabinet and… and fire it up in the air!"

Cristina got there first, aimed the gun into the air, and pulled the trigger but nothing happened.

"Give it to me!" Meredith demanded and she tried, too, but it was like the flare gun was a complete dud; it was not omitting even the slightest puff of smoke.

"Let me try," Mark said but the gun failed for a third time just as the helicopter flew on, leaving the surgeons stranded and alone.

There was a long, depressing pause as reality registered for all of them. And then Jerry threw his head back against his seat and groaned. Lexie and Arizona started to cry. Mark threw the flare gun into the ground where it bounced away and Cristina sat back down, defeated.

Meredith felt like she was going to throw-up again but that was not an option anymore. There were no options anymore except for one. She bent over, grabbed her hiking stick, and then stood up again. The chopper leaving had been the final straw.

"I'm going… to look for Derek. W-When the helicopter… comes back… tell them that Derek and I are… alive and… that they n-need to come pick us up. And no, Cristina… there's nothing you can say… to change my m-mind."

_**Okay… that's it for now! I know I said that we would find Derek in this chapter but it just didn't work out without making the chapters like 5,000 words. We will DEFINITELY find him in Chapter 4! Thank you so much for reading and please don't forget to favorite/follow and leave reviews! I appreciate it so much. Xoxo, merderpedia. **_


	4. Staying Alive

_**A/N: Warning… it's time to find Derek. Grab a box of tissues before proceeding. **_

Meredith Grey was in no shape to be trekking through the woods, even if there was daylight. Bruised and lacerated from head to toe, Meredith was barely keeping the excessive blood inside her body with spare scrubs tied around her open leg wound and damaged head. Her ribs were throbbing, her internal organs likely bleeding, and she was so dizzy that she felt like she was going to pass-out.

_You can pass-out once you find Derek,_ Meredith told herself repeatedly. _You can die once you find Derek. You just have to find Derek first and get him back to camp so that Derek can go home to Zola._

Of course, there was still a good probability that Derek was dead. Even if Meredith did find her husband, there was a chance that she would discover him cold and stiff, all of the life drained from his beautiful body. Meredith would not accept that, though, not until she knew without a doubt that she could not save him and so Meredith hiked on, swearing to herself that one way or another, she would drag Derek's body back to camp, if necessary.

Along the way, Meredith tried her best to watch for landmarks because Mark had been right when he said that it would not be good to be lost. But it was so much harder to do in the dark. All there was, anywhere, were trees and they all looked the same. Meredith wished that her phone had survived the crash because if it had, even if there was no reception out here, she would have a compass. Everyone's phones had been burned to a crisp though, and Meredith supposed that she should be thankful that the surgeons were not barbequed, too.

Meredith had been stumbling through the forest for around an hour when she heard the howling wolves for the first time. They were not too close, by the sound of their barks, but they were near enough to cause Meredith to freeze up completely. How was she going to protect herself if wolves made an appearance? Climb a tree?

Yeah, that was a good joke, especially considering Meredith's current physical state. She had never climbed a tree in her life. So Meredith hurried on, praying that the wolves had other means of getting food.

"DEREK! DEREK!" she screamed constantly but there was never any response.

At one point, the dizziness overwhelmed Meredith but instead of vomiting this time, she just collapsed and when she hit the ground, she had absolutely no strength to pick herself back up. She simply laid there on the forest floor, her face resting against the cool pine needles, tears leaking out of her eyes.

According to Cristina, Derek had been sucked out of a window when the plane hit the trees. That had to have only been seconds before the rest of the aircraft crashed and the other surgeons were knocked unconscious.

How far could have Derek flown before hitting the ground? If it was much farther, he stood almost no chance of survival… unless Meredith was just wandering in circles but how was she supposed to know that?

_Maybe Mark was right. Maybe I should have waited until the morning,_ Meredith thought as she rested but then she almost kicked herself for imagining such a thing. _No, Derek is out here. Derek needs you and you will find him. You will get him back to camp and then you can succumb to your internal bleeding._

Meredith was attempting to pull herself off the ground when suddenly, there was russiling in the bushes nearby and the accompanying footsteps did not sound human. It could be something relatively harmless, like a fox or a possum but it could also be something much larger and lately, the odds had not been in Meredith's favor.

As quickly as possible, Meredith scooped herself up and had grabbed her hiking stick just as a mule deer edged its way through the trees. It stared at Meredith, unblinking, for approximately ten seconds and she stared back and then the deer continued on its way, silent as ever.

_Just Bambi, _Meredith sighed with relief and she smiled to herself, weakly, remembering George.

It was not just Bambi though, not at all. Meredith soon discovered that Bambi was only one of many creatures that called this forest home. There were skunks and possums and squirrels… owls and deer and wolves. And a majority of these animals came out to play at nighttime.

Once, Meredith tripped her way through a small clearing, certain that she had seen human movement only to find a black bear clawing a tree trunk. Fighting the urge to scream, Meredith backed away slowly and then moved in the opposite direction.

Everything was becoming too much to handle. Meredith was not typically one to be afraid of wildlife but this was different. It was dark, she was hurt, and her husband was potentially dead.

"DEREK! DEREK!" Meredith continued to shout but she also began to cry.

Ignoring her throbbing abdomen and her aching head, Meredith tore through the trees and bushes with nothing but her lantern to guide her. She screamed and sobbed and waved her stick whenever the wolves' growling got too close.

Right when Meredith was thinking about how she was not sure how to get back to camp even if she wanted to, she saw it… another small clearing, a few patches of blood, and a large white object that beared some similarity to the metal siding of an airplane.

Her arms quivering, along with the rest of her body, Meredith raised the lantern high into the air and stumbled into the clearing. "D-Derek?"

There was no reply but it did not matter because Meredith saw him. Derek was on the ground, engulfed in a pool of his own blood and the flow appeared to be stemming from his head. He was unconscious, at the least, and Derek's left hand had been smashed through a piece of wreckage which was keeping him immobile. Meredith froze, unsure if she wanted to get any closer.

But this was it; this was her husband who she had been searching the forest for, for hours. On shaking legs, Meredith made her way over to him, knelt down and placed two fingers on Derek's neck, on his carotid artery. His pulse was extremely weak but it was there. Derek was alive.

"D-Derek," Meredith repeated, her voice broken and hoarse. "Derek, wake-up… it's… it's me."

She was not sure if she expected an answer but surprisingly, Derek did shift ever so slightly and open his eyes. "M-M-Meredith… I… I heard… you… I thought… thought I… was d-dreaming."

"N-No, I'm… I'm right here," Meredith promised and squeezed her husband's hand. "Oh, God… you're alive."

It looked like Derek was trying to smile but not quite succeeding. His body was ice cold from spending so long in the woods without a coat. His breath was shaky, like his lungs could not quite gather enough air.

Quickly, Meredith shed her own coat, ignoring the frigid temperatures and wrapped it around Derek. "There you g-go. You're… you're okay. You're g-gonna be… fine. We're gonna g-get you outta here and… and take you back to… to camp, okay?"

"C-Camp?"

"Yeah, um… back where the rest of the plane went down, we… we're sorta… camping there," Meredith explained. "The pilot, Jerry said they were… supposed to r-rescue us in… n-no more than… four hours but… but the transmitter… p-probably broke. So… we don't know… how long it'll be… Owen has to… realize we're missing… soon."

Derek was staring at Meredith blankly and the latter prayed that her husband's brain was functioning properly. "D-Do you… remember… um… what happened?"

"W-We… crashed. The… the plane… crashed," Derek said, wincing from his pain. "Is… is everyone… else?"

"Everyone is alive," Meredith said. "Mark… got b-burned and… and Cristina broke… her… um, her collarbone and… dislocated her… shoulder but they… b-both should be...okay. Arizona… b-broke her femur… um… Lexie's… in bad shape but… but alive… and… I d-don't know. They should… be fine. I'm… fine."

"G-G-Good," Derek gasped.

"Okay, now… now I n-need… you to talk… to me. Tell me… if you can… feel your limbs and… w-what all hurts?" Meredith asked.

Derek took a deep breath; it sounded like there was fluid in his lungs. "I'm… I'm not… paralyzed, d-don't worry. I… I can feel… everything and… everything… hurts… especially… my… m-my hand."

Meredith looked at Derek's left hand. It was stuck at a strange angle which suggested that Derek's wrist might be broken, too. Carefully, Meredith tugged at the limb, hoping that the hand could be removed from the sharp metal with some extra strength. It did not budge and Derek cried out in pain.

"Oh, God… okay, um… we need help. We can't… we can't get you back unless…"

"I… I know it's… it's bad," Derek whispered. "I… I tried to… get it but… I… I couldn't… get up and… I d-don't know… what… what happened then but… it was… dark and… and cold and… and there were w-wolves."

None of that was news to Meredith but it still broke her heart that Derek had been lying here for so long, alone and afraid. She should have come to find him earlier. For right now though, Meredith needed to find a way to free Derek so she opened her mouth to propose a plan when she realized that Derek's eyes had slipped close and that his breathing was more rigid than ever.

"DEREK!" Meredith repeated for what felt like the thousandth time and touched his face; his eyes flew open. "I need you to… to stay awake, okay? You have to… keep your eyes… open."

"I know… I just… I'm so… d-dizzy," Derek moaned.

"I know," Meredith said; she was still dizzy, too. "What else… besides your hand? I'm g-guessing… you hit your head?"

"I… I don't… know," Derek said and that was concerning, to say the least, coming from a neurosurgeon.

"Well… does it hurt?" Meredith prompted.

Again, Derek shrugged. "I d-don't… um… know."

Meredith closed her eyes and nodded; what was she supposed to say to that? Mark, the plastic surgeon was burned and Derek, the neurosurgeon, was bleeding profusely from the head yet unable to feel his pain. That meant there was brain damage. It was not fair. Meredith wiped away the tears that were leaking again and then got in front of Derek and held up the lantern.

"Okay, you know… you know the… drill, Dr. Shepherd. F-Follow… the light… with your eyes."

Derek did as he was told and thankfully, his pupils were equal and reactive. Meredith set down the lantern and then sat down next to her husband. "Okay… you're okay. You're… you're fine. I know you're… you're dizzy but we… we n-need to… try and… get you… outta here. M-Maybe if… if you can pull… your arm, I can… I can move this and… and… g-get you out."

There was a sad, defeated look in Derek's eyes and Meredith knew what he was going to suggest a second before he said it: "M-Mer… d-don't… worry about… me. Just… just go back to… to the others and… and take care… of… of them. W-When help comes… come… find me. Take care of… of Zola…"

"No. No, stop it… that's… that's not an option. I'm… I'm not leaving… you," Meredith insisted. Her heart was pounding. How was this happening? Derek was bright and shiny. He was the contrast to Meredith's dark and twisty. How was he lying here, telling his wife to leave him, giving-up hope? _How was this happening?_

"B-But… Mer…"

"I'm not… leaving… you. N-Not… an option. I w-worked too hard… Cristina did… at keeping you… alive… after the… the shooting," Meredith repeated.

Derek groaned and as he did, there was a sound from nearby… a wolf barking. The pack was getting closer.

"They're… they're coming. They… they can smell… the b-blood," Derek choked out.

"Okay well… well then we g-gotta get you… out," Meredith said. "W-What can I… do? Tell me… what to do and… and d-don't… you dare… tell me to… to leave you."

There was a pause as Derek must have considered his options and then he took a deep breath. "I… I need you to… to find a… r-rock."

Meredith did not halt or question her husband for an explanation. She just jumped to her feet and scrambled around the clearing as fast as she could. The dimming lantern barely provided enough light for Meredith to find a fist-sized stone with sharp edges. She picked it up and carried it back to Derek.

"I… I got… one. W-What should… I do? B-Break the… the metal?"

Meredith was not sure if that was possible but Derek shook his head. "N-No… I want you to… to break… my hand. That's… that's the only way… it's g-gonna come… out."

A sharp jolt of pain ripped through Meredith's chest and it was like her heart was sinking all the way to the ground. She should have known. She should have realized, but she had not… _how was this happening?_

"I… I can't…"

"You… you g-gotta… you're strong; you help turn… p-patients… in the… the ICU," Derek said. "It's already… broken… p-partly. Just… just finish… the job."

Frantically, Meredith shook her head. Breaking a patient's bone in order to properly set it was one thing. Draining Lexie's pericardial sac was another thing. But this? Meredith could not do this. She could not crush her husband's hand with a rock in the middle of the woods.

"D-Do it… quick," Derek instructed. "And… and hard. Or… or I'm… g-gonna… die."

_Right, Derek will die if you don't do this,_ Meredith reminded herself. _You're not doing this to hurt him. You're doing this to save his life. You have to save him._

Meredith gripped the rock tightly and raised it over Derek's hand. She prayed that his neurological damage would numb his hand and block the pain.

"On… on the count… of three…" Derek continued. "One… two…"

Meredith brought the rock down in one swift movement and shoved it onto Derek's hand. He screamed, but there were no popping sounds that would have come if the bones had actually been crushed. Meredith knew before looking that she had not done her job well enough, that she was going to have to do it again.

Sure enough, while Derek's hand was bleeding more heavily, it was unable to be squeezed through the small hole in the metal wreckage.

"Oh… my God… oh, God… I'm sorry," Meredith cried.

"D-Don't be… just… just go… again. Do it… hard. Like… like you're… w-working with… Callie. Like… like when… you helped… Owen," Derek said.

_When Meredith had helped Owen… Meredith had operated on Owen while Cristina performed surgery on Derek… the shooting… _

Two years ago, after Gary Clark had shot-up the hospital, Meredith had stayed in the Seattle Presbyterian ICU with her husband for over a week. The rest of the world had ceased to exist; the only time that Meredith had left Derek's side was when she had to go to the OBGYN and be treated for her miscarriage.

Those hours in the ICU had been the worst of Meredith's life. They might have been manageable once Meredith knew that Derek was going to survive, but the head of the Shepherd family had been gunned-down and killed when Derek was only a child. Derek had witnessed his father's murder at only nine years old. Needless to say, the gunshot wound had affected him mentally almost as much as it did physically.

Meredith would never forget the way that her husband had woken up screaming with nightmares… the way he had writhed with pain, cursing under his breath… Meredith would always remember how she had to tell Derek about each and every one of the shooting fatalities, and how Derek blamed himself for the longest time because it had been he who Gary Clark originally targeted. He had vomited upon learning that eleven staff members had died…

Still, none of that compared to the act that Meredith was about to commit. She squeezed her eyes shut, tried with all her might to imagine herself breaking apart cadaver bones with a hammer, and then slammed the rock… once, twice, three times into Derek's hand. There were crunching noises. Derek was screaming at the top of his lungs and his upper body was borderline convulsing in pain.

Tears were running down Meredith's face, too, as she cast the rock aside and examined her husband's hand once more. She had finished her task. Several pieces of fractured bone had broken through Derek's skin and blood was spewing in every direction. How was he still alive?

It did not matter how… it just mattered that he was alive. Meredith gently eased Derek's butchered hand out of the plane wreckage, ripped off a piece of her own scrub top, and tied it tightly around his wrist.

"Okay… okay, you're… you're free… now," Meredith said. "Come on… come on, we… gotta… get you up…"

Derek was in too much pain to speak but he nodded shortly, his eyes glazed over.

To say that it was hard work was an understatement. Neither of Derek's legs were broken but he was so unstable; he almost fell a number of times while Meredith helped him to his feet. And then once Derek was vertical, all of the color from his face completely drained and Meredith barely got behind him in time to break his fall as he collapsed.

They landed on top of one another. Meredith hit her head on the ground. Then Derek's body nearly crushed her ribcage and all of the air was knocked out of Meredith's lungs; she could not have moved if an army of wolves were charging right at her.

It was the worst physical pain that Meredith had ever experienced. Her breath coming out in short, ragged gasps, she lay there under her husband, begging a helicopter to materialize overhead, wishing that they would both just die and not have to suffer any longer.

But Zola needed them so somehow, Meredith crawled out from under Derek and touched his face for a third time. "D-Derek… wake-up… Derek, p-p-please, wake-up…"

Derek woke-up slowly and then all at once. He coughed and retched and Meredith leaned his head forwards just in time for him to vomit blood onto himself.

"Shh, you're okay," Meredith said and rubbed his back just like Mark had done for her a matter of hours ago. "You're… you're okay. Come here."

As soon as Derek finished expelling the blood, he fell sideways, into Meredith's arms. Tears leaking once more from her eyes, Meredith held him close, praying that the extra body heat would help warm her husband. His skin was still freezing to the point that Meredith wondered if frostbite or hypothermia was in the equation.

Finally, almost a full hour later, Derek seemed to stabilize enough that he was able to be moved. Meredith swung his good arm over her shoulder and although it took twice as long, they managed to get him into a standing position and walking.

The trek back to the crash site was hell and there was no other way to put it. The sky was still dark so Meredith did not know where she was going but she had to keep telling Derek that they were _almost there._ They had to stop every few feet because Derek was so dizzy and sick; he kept dry-heaving and then asking for water but there was none. Meredith knew that she should have brought water; it was a stupid decision not to but her brain had not been working correctly and she wanted to leave fluids for Lexie.

Several times, Meredith was practically carrying Derek in one direction, only to realize that she had never seen a pond before and they had to turn around. During other instances, Meredith had to lie to her husband and tell him that they had only been walking for twenty minutes even though it had been two hours. Both surgeons shook with fear whenever the wolves growled and Meredith kept wondering how long she had until her insides bled out and she left Derek to die.

The sky was fading from black to purple when Meredith and Derek finally stumbled into the clearing that held the plane wreckage and other surgeons. No one seemed to be paying attention to the impending footsteps; perhaps they were all asleep (or dead) so Meredith limped forward until the pressure on her chest became overwhelming and she could not take another step.

"H-Help… help… p-please!" Meredith cried as loud as she could.

Cristina leapt to her feet and then shoved Mark who also woke-up and they both rushed over; Meredith had no idea how they managed to run so fast and she did not care.

"Derek, bro!" Mark gasped. "Come here; I've got you, okay?"

"P-Please… take him," Meredith moaned and thankfully, managed to transfer her husband over to Mark successfully. Mark carried Derek the short distance over to the plane and laid him down next to Lexie and Arizona.

As soon as she knew that he was safe, Meredith collapsed, suddenly too hurt, weak, and sick to remain standing at all. On top of all her other injuries, Meredith's back was now also aching painfully. She had a feeling that she had pulled something out of place while holding Derek up for four hours.

Cristina knelt down next to Meredith, who was wheezing. "Are you okay? Where did you find him?"

"It was… I d-don't know… it was… dark and… got lost," Meredith said and then coughed and spit but this time, luckily, there was no blood involved. "It took… it was… four hours… to get… back…"

"Damn," Cristina said and shook her head. "Okay, well… he's okay now. We've got him and everyone is accounted for. Can you walk?"

Miserably, Meredith shook her head. She had been walking for four hours but suddenly, she could not take a single step, not if Derek's life depended on it. "I… I can't… b-breathe…"

Cristina cursed and then spun back around towards the others. "MARK! Mark, get back over here and help me carry Meredith!"

"I'm a little busy right now!" Mark yelled back. "Derek's in really bad shape."

"Well, so is Meredith! Come on, she needs oxygen!" Cristina demanded.

Mark jumped to his feet again, leaving Derek for only a moment, and rushed back over towards the two twisted sisters. He scooped Meredith up in his arms just like he had before and carried her over to the campsite, Cristina jogging behind.

It was like the weight of the world was lifted off of Meredith's shoulders when she finally plopped down against the plane wreckage, an oxygen mask pressed over her mouth and nose. She wanted to go to sleep; that was all she wanted but Meredith could not do that just yet… she had to wait and see if Derek improved because he was unconscious again, struggling to remain alive.

Mark, now that he had retrieved the oxygen for Meredith, was attempting to help his friend. "How was he when you found him, Grey? Do you know his injuries?"

"Um… left hand is… b-broken… in, um… in several places. He's… losing… so much blood," Meredith explained between breaths of oxygen. "Severe… um… open head wound… he was having… trouble… breathing, staying… awake. I hope it's just… just fractured ribs but… it sounded like… um… there was fluid… in his… lungs. He was… freezing… so cold."

"How are his pupils?" Mark asked.

"Equal and r-reactive," Meredith said. "B-But I don't… he was… he was confused. He kept asking… um… he kept asking the same questions and… I asked if he… hit his head, he said… he didn't know. So I asked him if it hurt and he still… he said he… didn't know."

Mark nodded grimly. "Okay… don't worry, Grey; I've got this. Keep an eye on Lexie for me, okay?"

Meredith agreed because she did not feel capable of doing much else. But thankfully, keeping an eye on Lexie was easy. She was still sleeping, her chest rising and falling evenly with no signs of distress.

"How was… everyone… last night?" Meredith asked Cristina while they watched Mark.

"I mean, okay, relatively speaking," Cristina sighed. "We tried to start a fire; we found some matches but the wind kept blowing it out. Mark's burns were starting to hurt a whole lot. Arizona didn't sleep much; she was in pain all night."

"I'm sure she… she slept more than… I did," Meredith said and Cristina grunted in agreement.

"Yeah, she probably did."

A few minutes later, Meredith was still trying to stay awake when she remembered that they now had access to a limited amount of fluids. "Hey… is there… there's water, right?"

"Yeah, there's only a few bottles left but you need one, Mer. Your head is bleeding again; you're losing so much blood," Cristina said. The cardiac surgeon ripped up another spare pair of scrubs and used them to redress Meredith's wound while the latter gulped down a full bottle of water. Meredith knew that she was dehydrated so did not fight in the slightest.

"How's your leg?" Cristina asked once Meredith's head was bandaged.

"I… I don't know. I honestly… I haven't noticed it… that much," Meredith said. She looked down; the bleeding on her leg had stopped but the wound itself did look rather infected. "I'm gonna guess… there aren't any… any antibiotics… are there?"

Cristina shook her head. "Nope. There's hand sanitizer and we found a thermometer… that's about it."

Once she regained a bit of her strength, Meredith looked over at Derek for the first time. He was still laying down, unconscious, and Mark had wrapped his head with scrub material but was desperately trying to control the bleeding from his hand while at the same time, attempting to awaken Derek.

"Come on, bro… come on, I know you can hear me," Mark said. "Just open your eyes for me; let me know that you're still in there."

Meredith sniffed. "He… he was throwing-up b-blood… before… like… like r-really, pure blood."

Mark froze, his face stunned. "You could have mentioned that before."

"I know, I… I know, I'm sorry," Meredith apologized.

Just like he had with her, Mark lifted up Derek's scrub top and felt around on his abdomen. Meredith watched, as well, but her heart was already sinking. Meredith was a general surgeon and could spot a distended abdomen from a mile away.

And even though it was not his specialty, Mark could, too. He cursed quietly and looked up at Meredith, frantic. "Okay, um… we're gonna have to get creative here."

Meredith did not like the sound of that. "In… in what way? We don't even know where his bleeding is!"

"At least two of his ribs have full breaks. I'm thinking they might have punctured his lung. So if we don't do anything, then… then he's gonna be dead in an hour. It's just like you told me yesterday with Lexie," Mark said.

"Okay so… so… what's the plan?"

Mark exchanged a dark, knowing glance with Cristina who turned towards Meredith. "Mer… um… we don't have many options at this point… and… and I'm useless with my arm the way it is so… so you and Mark are going to have to team up and… and put in a chest tube."

"A… a chest tube?! Cristina, we don't have a chest tube!" Meredith shrieked.

"We'll make one," Mark said. "Mer, get the tubing that we used on Lexie yesterday… and the knife; it's next to Arizona. Sanitize it and then… and then give me the hand sanitizer so I can prep Derek."

Meredith shook her head. "No… no, if we miss… if we mess-up at all, we will be murdering him."

"Yeah and we'll be murdering him if we sit here on our asses, too so it's up to you. Would you rather take the risk and potentially kill your husband or do nothing and definitely kill your husband?"

Arizona chimed in from nearby. "Meredith, you've got to do it. Trust me, it's a miracle that Derek's lasted as long as he has."

"Fine… yeah, fine, okay… we'll do a bootleg chest tube," Meredith said. "But you're doing it this time, Mark."

Mark smirked, humorlessly. "Yeah, okay… I'll do the chest tube but you're gonna need to find something to close his hand with or else he's gonna bleed to death that way instead. Is there a needle and thread?"

"If there was, we would have used it on Arizona a long time ago," Cristina said but Meredith scooped herself up and started tearing through the plane wreckage again. There had to be something available to help Derek.

Eventually, she came across someone's suitcase that had been tossed from the luggage compartment; she thought it was Lexie's… Meredith opened it, hoping desperately that her sister had thought to pack food of some sort, but instead, found only clothes and a few toiletries.

Meredith picked them up anyway and carried them over to Mark. "Here, I have a t-shirt and a bandana… will… will either of those work?"

"Bandana could help but we really need is…"

"I've got it!" Cristina suddenly yelled and she came running away from someone else's bag holding something small in her hand. "A safety pin!"

"A safety pin will work," Mark said. "Okay, Mer… get over here. We wanna try to do it at the same time so we don't cause any unnecessary pain. Weave the safety-pin through the two flaps of skin… then wrap the bandana around it… use the duct tape to secure it. I'm gonna go in and… and he's probably gonna scream but don't stop, even if he's begging… just pray that he passes out."

Meredith agreed silently and just as she looked down at her husband to begin her work, she noticed that Derek's eyes had opened at last, and that he was staring up at her, conscious and fully aware of his pain.

_How was this happening again?_

_**I'm sorry. Trust me, that was just as painful for me to write as it was for you to read. But the good news is that Derek is accounted for now and now they just have to keep everyone alive. Don't forget to favorite/review! Chapter 5 coming soon. Xoxo, merderpedia. **_


	5. End of the Road

_**A/N- Thank you so much for all of the continued support and reviews. Here is Chapter 5. Also, I just want to say that I am really working on making the story "happier." I know that so far, things have been pretty depressing but I really don't want to skip over the surgeons' suffering/emotional moments like they do on Grey's Anatomy sometimes. Trust me, once they get out of the woods, things will improve! For now, grab a box of Kleenex and hold tight. **_

Meredith had never known pain like this, not in her entire 34 years of existence. Appendicitis had been bad, experiencing a miscarriage in the operating room was awful, and her various injuries as a result of this plane crash was brutal but there was nothing like watching her husband lie on the forest floor, screaming like there was no tomorrow, tears streaming down his face from the unrelenting misery that Meredith had personally inflicted on him.

"Please pass out, please pass out, please pass out," Meredith begged as she stuck the safety pin through Derek's skin, pulling it as tight as possible to limit the blood flow. But it did no good. For once, Derek stayed awake and alert as Meredith tied Lexie's bandana around his wrist.

When Meredith finally finished working, she crawled around to Derek's other side, both to monitor Mark's progress and to hold her husband's healthy hand in support. What she saw there, though, almost made her pass out as well. There was a miniature hole in Derek's side, the thin tubing from Cristina's hairspray sticking out of it, and blood rushing out. Derek's body was quivering; his face was white as a sheet, and he was still screaming, although the sounds were muffled because Cristina had stuffed a t-shirt in his mouth.

It was too much; Meredith turned her head just in time to vomit for the second time in two days, straight into the bloodstained grass. Not much was left in her stomach but the water she had chugged came back up.

"Dammit!" Cristina yelled. "Mer, you gotta retain your fluids!"

Derek's dying face flashed through her mind and Meredith's only reply to her friend was another gush of regurgitated water.

"COME ON, MEREDITH!" Mark demanded. "COME ON, HE NEEDS YOU!"

Swallowing back her gag reflex, Meredith crawled back over to Derek, ran her fingers through his hair, and touched his face. "Oh… Oh, God… it's okay… you're okay. I'm right here. I'm… I'm right here… with you…"

But the blood was continuing to leak from Derek's abdomen and if he lost anymore, he was going to die, no questions asked. Meredith turned to Mark. "We gotta… close him up. Bandage him and… give him fluids… M-Mark, he's going to… to bleed out."

"Yeah, he is," Mark agreed. The plastic surgeon removed the hairspray tube, and was wrapping the remaining gauze around Derek's abdomen when the right side of Derek's chest sunk down and he began gasping.

Mark's head jerked upwards and he met eyes with Meredith. "His lung collapsed… GREY, GET THE OXYGEN! NOW, NOW, NOW!"

Fumbling over herself, Meredith turned around so quickly that she tripped and landed in the pool of her own vomit. It did not matter, though; she lurched back up, grabbed the oxygen tank that she had been connected to moments earlier, and pressed the mask down over Derek's face just as he was losing consciousness.

"Derek… Derek, come on, stay with me, okay? Open your eyes; stay with me," Mark begged and weakly, Derek did as he was told.

For the first time since beginning the makeshift procedure, everyone paused to breathe. Derek's abdomen was less distended than it had been ten minutes ago, but he was also so much paler and although Derek was awake, there was a dazed, incoherent look in his eyes.

"Okay, now he needs fluids," Mark said and he passed Meredith one of the bottles of water. "See if you can get him to drink. If anyone can do it, it's you, the wife."

Meredith nodded. She opened the lid and then rubbed Derek's face, gently. "Hey… you need to try and sip at some water, okay?"

"N-No… no, I…" Derek moaned and trailed off.

"Yes, you… you have to. You've lost a lot of b-blood and… and we don't have any… IV fluids. Just take small… sips. I'll… I'll help you," Meredith said.

And despite his suffering, Derek must have wanted to make Meredith happy because with Mark's help, he managed to lean his head forward and open his mouth, the smallest amount. His teeth were red, caked with the blood that he had been vomiting. Meredith ignored it and fed him the water in tiny spurts until the bottle was half-empty and Derek could do no more. His head fell backwards and Mark caught it.

"Okay, okay… shh," Mark soothed. "You're okay, bro. You're doing great, you hear me?"

It was the exaggeration of the century. Meredith wiped away her tears. "Are… are there… p-pain pills or… or anything?"

Arizona rummaged through Lexie's suitcase. "Oh… um, there's some Tylenol!"

"Yeah… yeah, let's do it. That's… that's something," Meredith said. There was only half a bottle remaining but they passed it around so each surgeon received two pills. Mark claimed that he did not want any because no parts of his body hurt, but Meredith made sure to keep some aside for whenever he chose to admit to his burns.

Derek eventually came to his senses enough to lift his left arm and examine his halfway-repaired hand. "You n-need… p-please… loosen… the bandana… a little b-bit."

"You'll bleed to death, Derek. We don't want anybody dying here, okay?" Mark said.

"But… Mer… Mer, you g-gotta… save my hand."

"No, first we… we need to save your life," Meredith told her husband and continued running her fingers through his hair. He was a little calmer now but Derek was still clearly in an unbelievable amount of pain and Meredith could not forget about the way he had vomited blood. Sure, she had done the same yesterday but that was different. It was more vomit where a bit of diluted blood just happened to come up. Derek's blood had come straight from his stomach or lungs.

"He'll be okay, Mer," Mark smiled softly. "Really, it can't be long now until Rambo gets his act together and finds us. We were supposed to get home over 12 hours ago."

Meredith nodded. "I know but… he lost so much blood."

"Yeah… yeah, I know he did and Lexie's unconscious, too," Mark confirmed and then he looked up towards the sky. "Hurry up, Rambo."

While they were waiting for Owen to rescue them though, there really was nothing to do but sit. Meredith helped Derek drink the other half of his bottle. Arizona was finishing up her second bottle of water- everyone agreed that she needed a lot because of her femur- and Lexie had apparently consumed three.

"Make sure you're drinking too, Cristina… Mark," Meredith reminded them. "I know you're not… not hurt as badly but you're still p-probably… getting dehydrated."

"Don't worry, I'm drinking," Cristina said and took a swig of water. "I'd drink faster if it was tequila though."

Meredith smiled weakly. There usually was not a time in the world that tequila did not sound good but right now, it would not be wise to become even more dehydrated… and all that Meredith really wanted was food. "God, I'm so hungry."

"There was really no food on the whole plane?" Arizona groaned.

"No, they don't stock these planes like they do the jets… this was supposed to be like, a two-hour flight," Cristina said. "Maybe we could kill a deer or something and roast it."

"Yeah, if we hadn't used up all of those pathetic matches last night," Mark said.

"And what would we kill a deer with? Does anyone here even know how to hunt?" Arizona asked.

Everyone looked around but there was no response. They were healers by nature, not killers and it was unlikely that anyone had been taught. Meredith's mother never had time to bond with her daughter and Cristina hated the outdoors. Thatcher was not a hunter so it was not like he could have taught Lexie. Arizona hunting was too ridiculous for even Meredith to imagine but she looked hopefully towards the men.

"Derek was nine when his dad was killed. After that, he never wanted to touch a gun," Mark said. "And I basically grew up in the Shepherd family so… it's a no from me."

"If George was here, he could have shot us a deer," Cristina said. "Remember how his idiot family drug him out on Thanksgiving every year to kill that damn turkey?"

Meredith smiled again, weakly. "Yeah, if George was still here… everything would be so much easier. I bet… I bet Izzie never would have… r-ran away if George was still here."

"Don't say that. If Izzie had stayed, it would have been for Evil Spawn," Cristina said, referring to Alex… Alex, who was supposed to be on this flight. She certainly had not meant to, but Arizona had possibly saved his life by kicking him out of the Boise trip.

"What's Dr. Model doing now; do we know that she's still alive?" Mark asked.

"Yeah… last I heard, she was working as… as an oncologist down in… in the San Diego area," Meredith replied. "She got… inspired… by her own… fight against… cancer… I guess."

There was a long silence; maybe no one knew quite what to say. And then Cristina opened her mouth and began reciting Richard's old speech: "Eight of you will switch to an easier specialty. Five of you will crack under pressure… two of you will be asked to leave."

"One of you will be dead," Meredith said but no one laughed, not that she expected them to…

"Three of you will be dead. Did we forget about Reed and Charles?"

Meredith closed her eyes but she did not plan on falling asleep. She just did not want to think about the other worst day of her life, the day that she watched Derek get gunned down by Gary Clark and miscarried her biological baby… it was all too much.

Slowly, Meredith rolled her head sideways and looked at Derek who had been awake since undergoing his treatment but still refused to speak or move. "Did the Tylenol help at all?"

"As much as… as Tylenol can but…" Derek stopped short and for a moment, Meredith thought that something was wrong. She thought that Derek could not breathe or that he was about to cough-up blood or something. But neither of those things happened.

Derek stared up at his wife and then whispered, "Mer, you lied… you lied; you're… hurt. Your head…"

"Oh, it's nothing," Meredith said and wiped at the side of her head casually but her hand came away sticky with fresh blood again.

"Yeah, maybe you can get her to listen to you, Derek," Cristina said, sarcastically. "You know your wife was puking blood yesterday, too?"

Meredith barely had the opportunity to shoot Cristina a look of hate before Derek was hyperventilating. "No… oh, God, Mer…"

"Stop it. I'm fine," Meredith said and for the first time, she was beginning to wonder if that was true. If she had really been bleeding internally, she likely would have died by now.

But Derek still looked worried and kept glancing up at Meredith every two minutes for the next hour, as if she was going to keel over and die.

Minutes passed like hours. As the sun rose in the sky, the temperature did get warmer but it was never quite hot enough to be comfortable and Derek's skin refused to reheat. He may have been concerned about Meredith, but she was so worried about him, too. He was not looking good; Derek's face was still white and his expression was lost. The bottle of water had not helped him.

"He lost so much blood," Meredith repeated to Mark, remembering the scene when she had initially found him. "I guess there's no way we could do a transfusion out here, is there?"

Mark did not need to say the words. There were no IV bags or tubing, not even plastic zip-lock bags that could be make-shifted into something to hold blood. Plus, blood transfusions completed in the middle of the woods would not be sanitary and that could potentially kill Derek faster.

But Meredith's eyes were filling with tears of anxiety so Mark sighed and rubbed Derek on the shoulder. "Okay, you need to drink some more water, bro, and let's get you sitting up. You're really dehydrated."

Derek was unable to sit-up. When Mark tried to pull him into an upright position, he began screaming and retching like he was going to throw-up. So instead, the other doctors fed him another half bottle of water and saved the rest for Lexie whenever she woke-up.

As Mark sat with Derek and Arizona kept an eye on Lexie, Meredith could not help but scoot closer to her person, Cristina and say, "They've got to find us today, right?"

"They've got to… Owen has to have a search party out by now and… and it's not that far between Seattle and Boise," Cristina agreed. "They've got to…"

Roughly one hour later, Derek was improving. It was nothing drastic; he was in pain, lightheaded, and confused but Derek was also well enough to feel guilty about scaring Meredith and Mark so that was a good sign.

"A-Are… are you… sure you're… okay?" he asked Meredith.

"I'm fine. My head stopped bleeding and… and I'm staying hydrated. All that matters is… is keeping us all alive until… Owen finds us today," Meredith insisted.

Derek did not look convinced. "Yeah but… you n-need to get a bandage or… or something… you need food, we all… need food..."

"We don't need food. Humans can go up to… to two weeks without food and… and I'm pretty sure Owen is going to find us before then," Meredith said. "We have water… that's all that really matters."

Water was not going to be there indefinitely though. Derek and Lexie were sharing the current bottle which meant that the rest of the crew was down to three bottles. For six individuals that were already dehydrated from blood loss, this was not much and there was no saying what time of day that they would be rescued.

"Is there any way… you think you could help me… get outta here?" Jerry, the pilot called from the cockpit where he was still trapped. He was looking a bit pale and ill himself.

"What do you think, Derek?" Arizona asked. "We assessed him yesterday. I'm pretty sure his legs are paralyzed; Cristina stuck a pen in them and everything."

Derek let out a shaky breath. "Um… just… keep him… there."

"Yeah, it probably would be safer for you to stay where you are. If we move you at all, it could compromise getting your leg-function back," Arizona explained. "Plus, like… if it would start to rain or anything, at least you're protected from the elements in there."

Meredith prayed that it did not start to rain. They were in the pacific northwest so that prayer was not likely to come true but rain would worsen everyone's condition. Their coats and scrubs would become soaked and everyone would catch a chill… it was a doctor's worst nightmare.

"Are you sure there's not any food in there?" Cristina asked Jerry for the thousandth time.

"Y-Yeah, we didn't… pack any. Is there still… any water?"

"There is but..." Cristina trailed off; they had forgotten about Jerry and how he might need one of those three bottles of water, too.

"I g-guess you… you guys are… the surgeons and… mean more to… to society but… is it possible that… I could maybe… have one?" Jerry asked.

Meredith looked at Cristina who was hesitating. "It's not his fault… the plane crashed. The back end… fell off; that… that has something to do with… mechanics."

"Yeah, okay," Cristina said and passed Jerry one of the three precious remaining bottles and the pilot appeared extremely thankful. He immediately chugged down half of the fluids and then exhaled with relief.

"Okay, then… we'll decide the rest… later," Meredith said. "Or hopefully… w-we won't have to… cause Owen will… come save us and… they'll have bags of fluids… for all of us."

Mark smiled at the mention of this. "And food…"

"Food! I need food," Cristina moaned. "I would literally give anything for a chicken sandwich."

"I would give up my… my fellowship in Boston for… I don't know… one of Izzie's cupcakes," Meredith said and glanced at Derek. "No offense."

"N-None taken… I would g-give up… my Chief of… Neuro… p-position for some… fries and… and you know how… I feel about… fries," Derek sighed; he always lectured Meredith when she ordered the unhealthy snack.

Everyone laughed, which was a rarity lately. Even Arizona was smiling through her pain and then she began dreaming, too. "I'm such a picky eater but Callie and I always order pizza because it's the one thing we can agree on… I would let Stark run my division if I could have a pizza right now!"

"Me, too. I'd let Avery do whatever he wanted in Plastics," Mark said. "Damn, even the grilled cheese in the cafeteria doesn't sound too bad now!"

"Now, think of… of what we would all do if… we could actually get out of here," Meredith laughed. "Because then… we w-would have all the… the pizza and… and chicken and… fries that we wanted!"

"I would sleep with Owen and I'm gay, no offense, Cristina," Arizona said.

Cristina shrugged. "I don't care. I'm getting so desperate that I would be thinking about… I don't know, agreeing to have kids with Owen! And I hate kids."

"Too bad we can't… send a message to Owen. We could say, _Cristina wants… your babies!_ He would be out here with a… chopper so fast," Meredith said.

"I would hope… he would be out here… um… anyway… to rescue his… his wife and friends," Derek added. "Or maybe… maybe he doesn't care… about… any of us. Maybe he hasn't… noticed that… we're gone."

"Maybe he thinks we're still in Boise, just held up on the surgery. I feel bad for those twins," Mark said.

Meredith kept on laughing but then she stopped short. Talking about the conjoined twins that everyone was supposed to operate on made her think of her own daughter, Zola. Zola was back home with Callie who was letting her play with Sofia. There was no guarantee that Zola would ever see either of her parents again.

"Derek, Janet n-never should have… g-given us Zola," Meredith said before she could help it.

"Why? We had… no way of knowing… this would… happen," Derek said; he was clearly putting on a show, pretending to feel better for his wife. "And we're all g-gonna… make it out… of this."

It was the right way of thinking and Meredith knew that. She nodded and stared at her feet. Yes, there was definitely a chance that all six surgeons and the pilot, Jerry would make it out of this alive but for some reason, Meredith doubted it. It just seemed too… unreal. They had been in a plane crash and a lot of them were still critically hurt. Until they got out of the woods, none of them would probably even know the extent of their injuries. Lexie and Derek could be bleeding out… getting them, and everyone else to a proper hospital with real medical care was essential.

After a few hours of sitting with virtually no changes to anyone's demeanor, Meredith heard some soft sounds of movement to her left. She looked over and realized that Lexie, who had been sleeping all morning… or afternoon… or whatever time of day it was… had, in-fact, woken-up and was gazing in Meredith's direction, most of her face obscured by her oxygen mask.

Meredith got up slowly, to make sure that she would not disturb Derek who was lying next to her, and made her way over to her little sister. "Hey, Lex… how are you feeling?"

"Um… it… it hurts," Lexie coughed through her mask.

Her heart jumping a beat, Meredith remembered that Lexie had actually not been fully conscious since right after her cardiac tamponade. How had Meredith not realized that?

"I know," Meredith whispered and stroked her sister's hair, softly. "I know it does… you have about fifty broken bones. But you're gonna be okay… you made it through the… the worst."

It was unclear if Lexie remembered any of that; she glanced around, her eyes wide and afraid. "Mer… Mer, I'm… I'm so… I'm so scared and… and I'm so… thirsty."

"Okay, well… we can fix the second part easily," Meredith said and she got up to retrieve the half-bottle of water that had been reserved. Pushing Lexie's oxygen mask aside briefly, she helped her little sister gulp down all of the available fluids and then smiled to hide the terror she felt when Lexie started panting, unable to go more than a few seconds without additional air.

After a minute or so, Lexie recovered, and she smiled, too. "T-Thanks… Mer… can I… can I ask… you something?"

"Of course you can."

Lexie nodded and took another deep breath; talking drained a lot of energy. "Um… do you… do you think… you're still gonna… move to B-Boston?"

That was a surprise; Meredith had not been thinking about her fellowship in the slightest. Until they got out of the forest, there was no guarantee that she was going to be alive for that. "Oh, um… I don't know. Maybe but… it'll p-probably get… postponed."

"Y-Yeah so… so Derek can… can get better," Lexie breathed.

"And so I can make sure that you're okay. I'm not much for up and… and moving cross-country when… my little sister is in the hospital," Meredith smiled weakly.

"D-Do you… really think… we're gonna get out… alive?" Lexie asked.

That was a bigger surprise. Everyone had been asking each other but Meredith knew better than to give another enthusiastic response like Cristina had been. Lexie, who could possibly be dying, deserved better so Meredith was honest: "I don't know."

It was like Lexie was crying; her body shook but no tears came out, probably because she was still dehydrated. She looked smaller, younger, and more afraid than Meredith had ever seen her little sister and she could not help but hold her hand.

"I'm sorry, Lex but… you want me to be honest… r-right? And the honest answer is that… I don't know… no one does," Meredith sighed.

"I… I know," Lexie sobbed. "I just… I m-miss my mom… I kept w-wanting… to be with her… I would do… anything to see her but… I d-don't wanna die… I was supposed to… to do more and… be a surgeon… I wanna… see my dad… again…"

Meredith changed her mind; Lexie did not need the truth right now. She needed to hear something reassuring from her big sister. She needed to calm down.

"You're g-gonna see Dad again," Meredith said and she was not sure if she had ever called Thatcher _Dad_ in her life but she knew it would make Lexie happy. "Don't worry… w-we're… we're both gonna see Dad again, okay? And you… you are g-gonna be a great surgeon. You are gonna be the… the best neurosurgeon… in the world… even better than Derek, but… don't tell him I said that."

Lexie grinned a little. "I… I'm gonna be… back in… psych…"

"That's… totally okay. We're p-probably all gonna… be in psych… for a while when we… get outta here. I mean… I mean I was… already dark and twisty… now… Cristina and I are… gonna be a little more than the twisted sisters," Meredith said.

"I've… I've never really… been hurt before," Lexie whispered. "I mean I… I broke my ankle once, when I d-danced… but… I've never… had surgery. I've never… besides the psych, I…"

Meredith nodded. "It's okay. It's… it's r-really not that scary. We p-practically… live at the… the hospital anyway. You just… you take a nap and then wake-up… groggy and high on painkillers."

"I'm… I'm allergic… to… to almost… all opioids… and… and that's unless… unless you die on the table," Lexie corrected her sister.

"Unless you die on the table," Meredith admitted and sighed. "But d-do you know what? That is… not gonna happen… to you, Lexie. I will… m-make sure everyone… knows about your… your allergies and… according to the… the odds, you should have… died like… like twice already but… you are fighting through this. You aren't gonna… die on the table.

"Now… I want you to… to close your eyes and… I want you to think about… all the things… you're gonna say… to Dad… when we see him. We're gonna go… go out to eat… you, Dad, and me… and… and maybe Derek and Zola… if they want to come. Think about… w-what we're gonna… talk about and… what you're gonna… order…"

Slowly, Lexie nodded again and closed her eyes. For just a moment, Meredith felt like she was a good sister. She got up from where she was kneeling beside Lexie and made her way back over to Cristina and Derek who were now sitting together.

"Is there… any water?" Derek coughed out.

Meredith looked at Cristina, who had sort of taken over as leader. "There's… there's only one… full bottle left. What should we do?"

"We should ration it for as long as possible. Think medically, Mer," Cristina told her.

"Okay, well Derek wants some… and… and he's still losing b-blood," Meredith said.

"Yeah, so give Derek like, two swallows for now."

It was difficult but Meredith accepted the plan for now. It would be foolish to give Derek the entire bottle when there were still no signs of Owen or his rescue team. Meredith took a small sip from the canteen when Derek was finished and tried to force her mind to accept that this was the last water she would drink before rescue.

Cristina consumed a small sip when Meredith was done. "The only thing better would be some food."

"I think I might have a stick of gum in my pocket," Meredith said and reached into her travel coat from Seattle Grace. Sure enough, there was a stick of mint-flavored gum inside and she broke it in half so Cristina could share it.

"I don't want gum; I want food," Cristina said but she accepted the half anyway and Meredith popped her own gum into her mouth. It was good to at least have some kind of flavor.

Everyone continued sitting. Everyone continued waiting. Derek had dozed off again; Lexie and Mark were both asleep. Arizona had her eyes closed but was definitely not sleeping; her femur was broken and she was in too much pain for that. At least for the moment, there was no crisis.

For what felt like the thousandth time, Meredith looked at Cristina for reassurance and said, "They will find us today."

"They have to find us today," Cristina whispered.

_**I hope you enjoyed! I tried to work in a little humor with the doctors fantasizing about food and some sweet sister bonding between Meredith and Lexie. As you have probably noticed, this story has been told from Meredith's POV thus far but the next chapter is actually going to switch things up and focus on Owen Hunt and the other doctors back at Seattle Grace as they realize that the Boise team is missing. Stay tuned and as always, please leave reviews. They make me very happy!**_


	6. Terror Zone

_**A/N- The surgeons in the woods are fighting to stay alive. But what's going on back in Seattle? This chapter follows Chief of Surgery, Dr. Owen Hunt as he realizes his doctors are missing and spreads the tragic news. Hope you enjoy and don't forget to review! **_

Owen Hunt was a trauma surgeon. He had served multiple tours in Iraq, and had seen things that he would never be able to remove from his hippocampus. He had saved lives and unintentionally ended them, and Owen knew every day that working at Seattle Grace Hospital in Washington was easy compared to all that he had gone through in the middle-east.

That being said, the last 24 hours had been a little much. Nearby, a building had collapsed on a group of firefighters that were completing their last day of training. A bunch of them were hurt and so Owen had been running around in the emergency room for what felt like days. On top of everything else, he was managing his duties as the Chief of Surgery, a job that he was still uncertain he really liked. For a while, Owen was not getting to operate nearly enough but lately, thanks in part to those firefighters, he was putting in more time in the OR.

When the last firefighter was finally declared stable, Owen trudged up to the conference room where hopefully, he would finally be able to get a few bites to eat. He had already sent an intern to buy him a sandwich at the cafeteria and was extremely grateful when he sat down in front of his computer and devoured the whole thing.

It was not until after the sandwich was gone and Owen was considering taking a power-nap that he realized he had several missed calls and voicemails on his phone. That was part of being chief but a few of them were from Boise Memorial Hospital where a team of his surgeons currently were operating on conjoined twins. They could not get back to Seattle fast enough, especially with all the traumas rolling in.

Nelson was good but he was not Shepherd. Avery was decent but he was not Sloan. Stark was a great doctor but none of the patients liked him as much as Robbins and they were on short-supply of residents, too. Lexie Grey would have helped a lot on the neuro-cases and…

Wait, were Cristina and Meredith not supposed to be back for their dinner with Webber by now?

Owen listened to the first voicemail from Boise: "Good morning, Dr. Hunt. This is Dr. Sheehan over at Boise Memorial. I just wanted to double-check what time your surgeons were set to arrive today."

That message had been sent almost 24 hours ago though, so it was nothing to be concerned about… Owen switched to the next voicemail: "Dr. Hunt, Dr. Sheehan again… still no word from your surgeons. I'm gonna check in with the airport and see if the weather held them up."

That message had been recorded more than 15 hours ago. Owen could not believe he had been wrapped up in traumas for this long but certainly, his surgeons had to be in Boise by now.

The third voicemail: "This is Dr. Sheehan again. We're starting to get a bit concerned here. Is there some kind of mass-casualty in Seattle that you kept them around to help with? If so, that's alright, just… just please fill me in."

That message had been sent four hours ago.

Quickly, Owen picked-up the phone and dialed the number back. A voice instantly answered after only one ring: "Dr. Sheehan, Boise Memorial."

"Sheehan, this is Hunt in Seattle. My surgeons are there now, right? Are they still operating on the twins or are they finishing up?"

"Dr. Hunt, they still aren't here. We've sent the twins back to their room with their parents for now because we couldn't get a hold of anyone," Sheehan explained.

"Okay, so… so they got held up at the airport? We had a big storm last night; that could have delayed their flight," Owen said.

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone and for the first time, Owen realized that something was very wrong. Sheehan took a deep breath. "No… I called the airport and they said the plane took off at 7:00 this morning, as planned. Unless they had to make an emergency landing at another airport… I don't know; I would still think that someone would have contacted us."

"So you're saying… you're saying what, that the plane could have crashed?!" Owen asked, hoping that he would be corrected… hoping that Sheehan would inform him that he was sleep-deprived and that idea was ridiculous.

"I don't know, Hunt. I can't really think of what else it could be because the airline said that they were trying to reach the pilot, Jerry Haynes but that they had lost all connections."

A deep, intense fear filled Owen from head to toe… Cristina was on that plane. Derek Shepherd was on that plane. Mark Sloan and Arizona Robbins were both on that plane… and Lexie and Meredith Grey were on that plane. They could not all be dead. That was impossible. A shooting had killed eleven members of the staff less than two years ago. It was not within reason for another tragedy to strike the hospital.

"Okay, look… maybe it's just an issue with reception or the plane. I'm gonna start calling my guys and I'll fill you in," Owen said and then hung-up.

Immediately, he called his top neurosurgeon, Derek Shepherd. The phone did not ring and rolled straight to voicemail: "This is Dr. Derek Shepherd. I'm sorry I missed your call; please leave me a short message and I'll return your call as soon as possible."

Owen did not have the strength to say anything. He hung-up and called his wife, Cristina but her phone did not ring either: "You've reached Dr. Cristina Yang. Leave a message."

Maybe they had landed somewhere else and their transmitter was broken. Maybe the whole airline was losing track of flights because of the storms.

But if that was the case, then why the hell was everyone's phone dead?

Owen Hunt was a trauma surgeon. He had seen much worse and he was a PTSD survivor. And because of all that, Owen knew that he could not waste any time. He jumped out of his chair, and sprinted down the hallway of his hospital. He took the stairs because an elevator was too slow for him and was sweating profusely by the time he ran into Webber.

"Hunt!" the latter smiled shortly. "We waited all night for Cristina and Meredith but they never showed for the resident's dinner. Their plane home was supposed to land hours ago; do you know what's keeping them? Were there surgical complications in Boise?"

"Richard, we need to talk," Owen said and swiftly lead the former-chief into an empty meeting room. "Look… I need your help on what to do. You were chief for eleven years and… and I'm out of my depth here."

Webber looked confused. "What do you mean? You've done a fantastic job of handling the situation with the firefighters. They're all doing great."

"That's not what I mean," Owen said and sighed. "I just talked with Dr. Sheehan at Boise Memorial. Our surgeons never arrived today and the airport cannot contact the plane. Everyone seems to be in agreement that… that there must have been a crash of some sort."

Webber's face went completely blank for a few seconds and for the first time since the shooting, there was genuine fear in his eyes.

"Cristina was on that plane," Owen choked out.

"Y-Yes and… and so was Meredith… and Shepherd and Sloan and…" Webber shook his head. "Six of our most talented surgeons were on that plane and nothing's been done?!"

Owen shrugged. "I… I just learned about it! What do I do?!"

"First of all, you check your damn voicemail more often!" Webber snapped. "And second of all, you call the police. Tell them what you suspect. We'll need to get a search party out right away."

The next half-hour went by in a blur. Owen locked himself in his office so the word would not get out to the other doctors and made phone call after phone call. He talked to Seattle's Chief of Police who he had seen much more than he cared to in the last couple years and then got in contact with the National Guard. He wanted everyone possible out there searching for his wife and friends.

When he finally got a break, Owen ran down to the emergency room where the day shift was making their way inside. Callie Torres was standing near a man with a broken leg, drinking a cup of coffee and Jackson Avery was in a corner with April Kepner and Alex Karev. They all looked slightly annoyed.

Owen needed to break the news to them now because it would be worse if they heard it on television or the radio. He took a deep breath and announced, "Doctors Torres, Bailey, Karev, Avery, and Kepner to Trauma 1 immediately!"

There were others that cared about the surgeons on the plane but Owen could not ease this news on everyone. There were five doctors though, that could not learn through gossip.

"What now?" April Kepner groaned as she followed her peers into Trauma 1. Owen had informed her yesterday that she would not have a job here much longer because he could not accept an attending that was not board-certified.

"Were you going to tell us we all get the day off?" Avery begged. "Webber kept us at that damn restaurant so late last night waiting for Meredith and Cristina and they never even showed."

"Yes, that's… that's what I wanted to talk with you about and unfortunately… yes, you may have the day off if needed," Owen said and the faces of the residents brightened.

Callie looked confused. "Wait, then why am I here?"

"Yeah, excuse me but some of us have actual patients to see…" Bailey added.

"Stop! You all need to listen to me very carefully," Owen said. "I've just received word that the team of surgeons we sent to Boise Memorial yesterday… never made it there. We have reason to believe that their aircraft may have went down."

There was another long silence as Owen's words sunk in. Karev's face went completely pale and Callie looked like she might throw-up.

"Wait, like their PLANE CRASHED?!" Kepner gasped, tears filling her eyes.

"That… is what appears to have happened. Nothing is confirmed yet but I've talked with the police and the National Guard. They're getting ready to send out a search-party. Either way, I didn't want you to hear about this through the media," Owen whispered.

Callie shook her head. "This is a joke, right, Owen? This is some kind of sick joke because… because Arizona was on that plane! And Mark!"

"And so was Meredith and Cristina!" Alex Karev added.

"Yes, I am aware of all of that and this is most certainly not a joke," Owen promised. "News reporters will likely be here soon and we will need to give them accurate descriptions of all the missing surgeons. I would urge you not to panic but I'm not sure how much good that would do… just please try to keep calm and remember that no matter what happened, our people our doctors. They're survivors and I have faith that they can and will survive this."

Callie fell into a nearby chair; it was safe to say that she was not going to be working today or anytime soon. "But… but that plane crash… the one last year… everyone died…"

"Everyone died except for that one little girl," Avery remembered.

April Kepner began sobbing uncontrollably and dropped into another chair next to Callie. She was mumbling something about how Jesus was mad at her and therefore, destroying her world.

"We need to try and be strong," Owen continued. "You all are going through something incredibly difficult so I would urge you to all try and help each other. Trust me, I want to find them just as much as you do."

"Wait, wait… who all went on that trip? I thought you were supposed to go, Karev," Bailey said.

Karev appeared even paler and nodded. "I… I was supposed to but… but Robbins was pissed at me so… so took my spot. Oh, God, I was supposed to be on that plane…"

"You just had to go and take that damn fellowship at Hopkins, didn't you, Karev?" Callie cried. It was not Alex's fault and Callie had to know that but again, it was only natural to blame him, to blame somebody since Callie's wife was potentially dead.

But Owen could not comfort them now. Owen could not comfort himself. All Owen could do was exit Trauma 1, and pace out to the lobby where already, a television was portraying a breaking news segment: "SIX SEATTLE SURGEONS MISSING IN POSSIBLE PLANE CRASH."

"It is the same medical center that experienced the infamous shooting almost two years ago," a female reporter stated. "Seattle Grace, one of the top ten teaching hospitals in the country, sent a team of surgeons to Boise Memorial Hospital in Idaho yesterday where they were supposed to be performing a complicated operation on a set of conjoined twins. Instead, those surgeons never showed up and it is widely thought that their aircraft went down somewhere between Seattle and Boise. Search parties are being prepared now."

Owen tried not to look around as fellow-employees took in the news. Several nurses were gasping and pointing at the television and Webber, who had joined the remaining fifth-year residents, was grave with worry.

"What now?" Owen whispered to him. "What do I do now?"

"Now the journalists are going to start showing-up and they are all going to want to hear from you," Webber explained. "They are also going to want to publicize the names of the missing surgeons. If I were you, I would get on the phone fast with everyone's emergency contact because it is not fair to them to find out through the media either. They should hear it from you, Chief."

And Owen realized that the pain was only just beginning. He sprinted back up to his office and opened the file cabinet that held all of his surgeons' personal files. He picked-up his office phone and called a man called Daniel Robbins, Arizona's father. He talked with a woman, Carolyn Shepherd, Derek's mother. Owen could not get a hold of anyone related to Mark Sloan but he spoke to Thatcher Grey, father to both Meredith and Lexie and then held an extremely awkward conversation with Helen Rubenstein, Cristina's mother. Owen did not mention anything to her about being Cristina's husband because he knew that Cristina never informed her mother of the impromptu marriage.

He had barely finished the hour of excruciating phone calls when Webber came to fetch him for his press conference. Owen had forgotten to get a suit on such short notice but thankfully, Webber had sent an intern to do the job and Owen slipped the jacket on just as he walked outside to the podium.

It was hard to talk about the mission surgeons like they were just co-workers.

"This potential loss is personal for me, in addition to professional," Owen said into the microphone. "I am proud to say that Dr. Cristina Yang is my wife and the other surgeons on that plane are some of my closest friends. We want nothing more than to find them all alive, as soon as possible."

Of course, the media could not get enough of the fact that Owen was married to Cristina and then they loved it when he talked about Derek and Meredith being husband and wife. It was a love story that could end tragically or beautifully.

By the time that Owen made it back inside, he learned that some of the victim's families were already arriving. Thatcher Grey was in the hospital lobby with tears streaming down his face, begging for answers about both Lexie and Meredith. Both of Arizona's parents had arrived as well and they were talking with Thatcher, trying to find comfort in one another. Callie joined them and Owen watched as they held a prayer service together for Arizona and Mark, Lexie and Meredith.

Cristina's mother was apparently on a train to Seattle from Los Angeles because she did not want to get on a plane. Carolyn Shepherd, coming from New York, was forced to fly. Addison Montgomery was calling from LA, concerned about her ex-husband and ex-boyfriend.

Minutes went by like hours. Owen ordered the doctors that were able to start setting up for multiple traumas so if and when the surgeons were found, they could be rushed here for treatment. If they were all alive, Owen could hardly imagine the shape that they would be in but they would bring doctors over from Seattle-Pres if they had to… they would give everyone the best care imaginable.

"Do you really think they're all alive out there?" Alex Karev asked at one point, while bringing down armfuls of blood. It was doubtless that any survivors would need a lot.

"I have to believe that they're out there right now," Owen said. "If I've given up hope already, I… I don't know where to start but until we know otherwise, I have to believe that Cristina, Meredith, Derek, Mark, Arizona, and Lexie are all alive and waiting to be rescued."

A few hours later, there were six trauma beds set up in the emergency room. Dr. Nelson was ready as the neurosurgeon, Owen would be available to anyone besides Cristina as far as trauma went, and Dr. McQueen agreed to take on any cardiac-cases, with the help of Dr. Harrison. Another orthopedic attending was found named Dr. Schacter for the probable broken bones and he had a talented fellow called Dr. Blane. Dr. Bailey and Dr. Webber would take care of general surgery.

The first opportunity he got, Owen went out into the lobby where he sat with the families waiting. Cristina's mother was not here yet but the others had all arrived, including Carolyn Shepherd from New York.

"Is there any news?" Thatcher Grey asked for what was likely the hundredth time. "I'm sorry but… but my wife is dead and my daughters… my daughters are all I have. Molly is at the army base and… and God… I can't lose Meredith and Lexie, I can't…"

Owen nodded, compassionately. "I know, Mr. Grey. I wish I could say something more comforting but I assure you, we'll let you know as soon as we know something."

"Dr. Hunt," a blonde woman called; she appeared to be in her mid to late sixties. "I have to know about my Arizona. I've already lost my son; I can't lose her, too. Do you think she could still be alive? Do you think… there's a chance?"

"Yes, of course… I've seen people survive much worse than a plane crash. I think there's a good chance Arizona could still be alive," Owen said and he was not sure how much he believed it.

Just as Owen was about to approach Carolyn Shepherd, a nearby police officer called his name and so Owen headed in that direction instead. "Is there any news?"

"Well, not exactly," the officer said and his face was anxious. "We're continuing to search no matter what happens… but we did speak with some people from the airport that work for that aircraft company and unfortunately, if that plane really did go down somewhere in the trees… due to the build of the plane and the environment… unfortunately, we have been told not to expect any survivors."

_**Ooh, suspense… Let me know if you liked this chapter or if you thought it was dumb. I always thought that we should have seen more from the doctors in Seattle as they realized the plane had crashed. The next chapter will be focusing on the plane crash victims again. Favorite/follow, review, and stay tuned! Love you all so much. Xoxo, merderpedia**_


	7. Promises to Keep

_**A/N- Thank you guys again for all of the continued support. It means so much to me to know that you guys are enjoying my writing. If all goes according to plan, there should be three more chapters (including this one) before the surgeons get rescued! That being said, the last two days in the woods are probably going to be the worst so… please just enjoy the drama and hold on because once they are rescued, there are going to be some REALLY sweet MerDer moments. **_

The sun was setting, the sky was dark purple, and unless something changed soon, the surgeons were going to be spending another night in the woods.

Half of Meredith felt like she was in denial. Even the worst moments of her life- the drowning, the shooting, had only lasted a matter of hours. Now, they were going on three days stranded in the middle of nowhere and other than the one helicopter last night, there had been no sign of human life.

Meredith wrapped her Seattle Grace parka around herself. She made sure that Derek was tucked in tight (the tips of his fingers appeared to be developing frostbite), and then checked on Lexie who was holding steady. The minimal treatment they had given her was not enough though; Meredith knew that her sister was still in danger, plus she had a lot of broken bones.

Mark had woken-up. It turned out that he had more injuries than originally thought; he had just been hiding them well so that Lexie would not worry. But eventually, Mark could no longer disguise the sharp pains in his ankle which suggested some kind of fracture. Cristina had also diagnosed him with two broken ribs, a deep laceration on his back, and third degree burns which were mostly located on his right abdomen, hip, and thigh. It apparently made sitting quite uncomfortable.

"Do you think… w-we should… take our temperatures?" Meredith asked and touched the thermometer, the only item from the first-aid kit that anyone had ever managed to find, other than the scrappy gauze.

"Don't tell me you feel sick," Cristina said.

"I don't think… any of us feel great but… but no, I'm fine," Meredith said. "Since Derek's asleep, I can at least… tell you that my… my… head hurts even more than… than yesterday. I think I have a grade… three concussion… or at least a… a grade two."

Cristina snorted. "That's not hard to guess; there's a giant hole in the side of your head."

"Nelson will stitch me up good when we get home," Meredith yawned. "If you want, I can try and stay awake tonight so you can get some sleep. I know you and Mark were rotating last night but I don't think he's gonna be much help watching anyone except for Lexie."

"Yeah but you haven't slept at all since the crash, not besides when you passed out. You can rest for a little while. Cuddle with Derek," Cristina said and rolled her eyes.

"I don't think Derek's… r-really in the mood to… cuddle," Meredith said but she did not fight Cristina. For some reason, she could sense that Cristina was not ready to go to sleep right now and that was the good thing about their friendship. They did not push each other; they respected each other's boundaries.

Meredith curled down on the ground against her husband and closed her eyes. Her body was completely exhausted from the blunt trauma, from saving Lexie, from searching the woods for Derek, and from carrying him back to the crash site. Meredith's last thought before dozing off was, _I'll wake-up to a chopper…_

The next thing she knew, Meredith was soaked. She had woken-up with a start but it was not because of a chopper. Heavy rain was pouring from the sky and if the doctors were not in danger already, this was pushing them over the edge.

Meredith sat up straight and looked around frantically for Cristina but the rain had come all at once. It was a torrential downpour and Meredith could barely see two feet in front of her so she screamed as loud as she could: "CRISTINA?!"

"We gotta get Lexie and Derek in the plane!" Cristina's voice yelled in answer. Meredith looked in that direction and found Mark, trying to lift Lexie with all his strength. She was unconscious again and her legs were sticking out at an odd angle because of her fractures.

"I've got her feet!" Meredith said and somehow, the three doctors managed to carry Lexie over to the cockpit where they shoved her inside next to Jerry.

"Sorry, Jerry but… but we have two… hurt… really bad and… they've got to… come in here," Meredith said but there was no reply. She noticed for the first time that although Jerry was still breathing, he had fallen unconscious… oh, well; the pilot would wake-up and see that he had some friends.

There really was no time to worry about him now. Meredith jumped back down out of the cockpit and ran for Derek while Cristina headed in the direction of Arizona.

Derek had woken-up as well, thanks to the rain, and when Meredith reached him, he was having trouble pushing himself into a sitting position. When he saw his wife, relief passed over his face. "I… I woke-up and… you were g-gone!"

"It's okay; I'm here. Come on," Meredith said. She let Derek put almost all of his weight onto her again as she and Mark dragged him into the remainder of the plane's hallway because there was no more room in the cockpit.

Seconds later, Cristina managed to push Arizona through the wreckage too, and the five surgeons huddled together in the back of the plane while Lexie and Jerry stayed covered yet asleep in the front. The rain went on and on and despite the fact that they were "inside", it did not prevent anyone not in the cockpit from getting drenched.

It had to be around two or three in the morning when the rain slowed down so Meredith got up and looked out at the sky. It was cloudy and there was a ton of fog hanging in the air.

"I… I don't think… the rescue crews are… are even out r-r-right now," Meredith said as she climbed back in next to Derek. "There's so much… fog and… and clouds; it's p-probably too… too dangerous for them to fly."

"Great, so now we're going to be out here for another what, eight hours?" Cristina guessed.

"At the… the least," Meredith assumed and shivered. It was cold when they first arrived in the forest but now thanks to the rain, it was frigid.

She reached down and squeezed some of the water out of Derek's hair. He was shaking with chills and Meredith thought about how she would add ten times more suffering to her own body if she could take it away from him. She hated seeing him hurt in any way; she even hated when he had a small cut on his hand after Nurse Rose stabbed him with a scalpel during surgery… and let's be honest; it was not like Derek was in serious danger then.

"I wonder if… if Zola thinks… we're ever… coming back. I wonder if she… she thinks that… she got taken away from us… again like… like she did last year," Meredith wondered.

Derek's answer came out hoarse, in a chopped whisper. "I… I h-hope… she's… gonna be… okay. I… I hope… she's… she's okay…"

"What are you talking… about? Of course she's g-gonna be… okay… once we… g-get home," Meredith said but the way Derek was talking was odd. He was always the cheerful optimist. It was not like him to start saying anything that suggested surrender. Derek had done that only once before… after the shooting, when he was recovering in the ICU and reeling from the memories of his father being murdered.

"Derek," Meredith repeated. "You know we're… we're g-gonna get home, right?"

"A-Are you… are you… Meredith…" Derek asked and Meredith did not reply at first; she was not sure if Derek was asking because the comment was unlike her or because he honestly did not know who she was… if Derek could not remember his wife, things were worse than any of them thought.

Meredith exchanged a look with Cristina who crawled over. "Derek, do you know where you are? Do you know who you're with?"

"M-Meredith," he said again but did not move his head off his wife's lap.

"Okay, yeah… you're with Meredith but do you know who I am? Do you know where you are?" Cristina asked.

Derek nodded but then he dozed off again so there was really no guarantee. Meredith squeezed his hand and prayed, even though she never prayed: _Please don't let him have a brain bleed. Please let us get out of here alive. Please, just let Derek and Lexie live… and let Cristina live…_

Meredith woke-up and her first thought was, _Damn, I slept funny on my neck and now my whole day at work is gonna suck._

And then she opened her eyes. The rain was gone. The sun was shining through the trees, creating beautiful, stenciled designs in the sky. A sunny day after a rainstorm was usually one of Meredith's favorite kinds of mornings, but not today… because when Meredith looked around, she remembered reality and reality was that she was still stranded in the woods with her husband, sister, and friends. Over 48 hours had passed since the plane went down and no one had come to rescue them. Was there anyone left to rescue them?

It was illogical and Meredith knew that… she was a doctor and she was smart. It did not make sense for the world to come to an end. But at a time like this, it did not seem like there were a lot of other options.

Did the plane crash because the world was ending? Were the surgeons in the woods some of the only people still living on planet earth? Did Owen Hunt still exist and if so, was someone ever coming to save them? It was hard to believe; there was no sign of human life anywhere… no planes overhead, no highway nearby, not even a stray hiker.

The only creatures that Meredith knew for certain, still existed besides themselves, were wolves because they had ventured unspeakably close to the doctors' campsite. Despite her exhaustion, Meredith found it difficult to sleep for long on the hard forest floor- there were wild animals, lives at stake, and rescue awaiting- so every hour, it seemed, she jerked awake and looked around to make sure that everyone was still alive. Every time she opened her eyes, Cristina was sitting up against a tree, wide-awake, and Meredith wondered if she ever dozed-off.

One of those times that Meredith had glanced around, she had seen a few wolves nearby, sniffing at the ground and salivating. She knew that they could smell Lexie and Derek's blood and as Meredith lay there in the darkness, doing her best to stay perfectly still, she came to the conclusion that she had never been so afraid in her entire life.

Dying from a brain bleed or a heart attack was one thing but Meredith did not want to be ripped to shreds before she left this world. It was sure to be painful and far too drawn-out.

Right as Meredith was contemplating whether or not they had any defenses against the wolves, there was a high-pitched scream and it was coming from the cockpit. There was only one person that scream could belong to so Meredith jumped out of the wreckage.

"MER!" Lexie cried when she was found, sitting-up in the passenger seat. "Mer… I… I think he's… dead! I would… look but… I can't feel… my arm… and…"

Lexie did not have to finish. Meredith ran around to the other side of the plane and stuck her head through the broken window so she could feel Jerry's carotid artery. There was no pulse. His face was white and cold and he was slumped over in his seat.

"Y-Yeah, um… he's dead," Meredith confirmed and circled back around to Lexie. Her eyes were brimming with tears. "Try not to cry, okay? You're already dehydrated."

"B-But… why him? It… it wasn't his… fault. Why… why aren't… I dead?" Lexie asked.

"B-Because we were able to get you out… out of the… plane and… give you p-proper treatment… or… or at least, halfway… decent treatment," Meredith said. "Jerry was… he was already… p-paralyzed and… he knew that. I don't think… he had much fight… left in him. And he might have had… all kinds of… of other internal bleeding we didn't… know about. It's… it's good… he's out of pain… now."

It looked like Lexie agreed but she did not say anything; Meredith could sense that she wanted some time to grieve on her own. No, Lexie never really shared a conversation with Jerry but he had been kind towards the surgeons and he had died next to her. Lexie was already empathetic and traumatized so she deserved some alone time to process this.

Meredith crawled back into the hallway of the plane where Cristina and Arizona were both awake; Mark and Derek were still asleep. "Jerry's dead."

"What?!" Arizona gasped and looked up. "How, why?! I thought… I thought he was okay!"

"Yeah but… but Lexie just… woke-up and… she found him… dead… next to her. He probably had a… a hemothorax or something; he crashed up… against the gears. There was nothing… we could've done," Meredith said.

No one said anything. They did not have to, because Meredith knew that they were all thinking the same thing. Why would it be Jerry? Jerry was healthy, compared with the rest of them. His legs were paralyzed but people could live with paralyzed legs. Only last night he had been sitting up, talking with the surgeons, telling them about his wife, Alicia and his daughter, Katie. The doctors never really took the time to worry extensively about him.

How could he be the one that was dead?

"So I guess now we're supposed to sit here with a dead body for the next… however many hours?" Arizona finally said.

Meredith shrugged. "I don't know what… our other option is. We should try to keep Jerry's body in decent shape… for his family. They deserve at least that… much. I mean, we will get out of here today, right… Cristina?"

"Yeah, we have to get out of here today," Cristina said.

"You said that yesterday," Arizona sighed.

"Well, we have to eventually, right? I mean, it's not like we can just sit here in this damn plane until the end of time. Search and Rescue will eventually find us," Cristina said.

_If we don't all die first,_ Meredith thought but she did not have to say it, again… she knew that Cristina and Arizona were thinking the same thing.

"Meredith, you need to get up. Come on, you need to get up and help me with Arizona."

Now that the doctors were going on their third day in the forest, everyone was sleeping more. The surgeons were weaker, they had no food and half a bottle of water remaining, and it was difficult to keep up the energy to fight when there was no proof that rescue was ever going to come.

But if Arizona was in trouble, then something needed to be done so Meredith hauled herself up from where she had been lying on the ground. "W-What happened?"

"Nothing exactly happened but…" Cristina trailed off because as Meredith could plainly tell, there was no need to continue. Arizona was sitting nearby, screaming her head off like she was when the plane had first gone down, the scrubs covering her left leg ripped apart. Her femur was in worse shape than ever. Not only was it clearly infected, with blood and pus building up everywhere, but there were what appeared to be large bugs nested inside the wound.

Meredith had seen a lot of gruesome injuries throughout her five years of residency but she had to work hard to control her gag reflex at the site of Arizona. "Oh, God…"

"Yeah, I keep trying to get the bugs out but every time I start, I end up doing more damage somewhere else so I need an extra set of hands," Cristina said.

Part of Meredith wanted to suggest that Mark help instead but that was not in Meredith's nature, to pass a task onto someone else. Besides, Mark was sitting with Lexie, last Meredith had seen, and Derek was still asleep so it was down to the two twisted sisters to treat Arizona.

There were no gloves, and unfortunately, not even a pair of tweezers available so Meredith sanitized her hands several times before getting started. It was hard, disgusting work. As Meredith dug around in Arizona's leg with her fingers, the pediatric surgeon screamed constantly but it would have been worth it, had they made actual progress.

Every time that Meredith got hold of an insect, she seemed to also pull away a significant amount of skin and tissue. Whenever Meredith released a bug on its own, it crawled right back again and bathed in the blood that was gushing from Arizona's leg.

Eventually, Cristina paused. "We're going to have to stop for now. We're quickening the blood flow and she'll bleed to death within the hour, at this rate."

"Yeah but… but she might die of… infection if we don't… get the bugs out," Meredith said. "And… and personally… I would r-rather bleed out… than be… be eaten alive."

"Well, right now, if we don't get the bleeding under control, Arizona is going to die and then get eaten by wolves so your only choice left is whether or not you want to help me," Cristina said so Meredith gave in.

"Okay, okay. I'll… I'll get something to… to wrap the leg with."

There were not many clothing items left; a majority of them had been used to bandage Lexie and Derek but Meredith managed to locate a pair of lounging pants. Cristina ripped them apart and tied them around Arizona's femur (while the latter continued to wail) and Cristina duct-taped it in place.

"That should at least keep out… any… any additional bugs," Meredith said but Arizona did not reply.

Just then, Mark appeared- he had finally gotten up now that everyone was finished tending to Arizona's gore but Meredith did not have time to complain. Mark was obviously worried. "Do we have any water left? If we do, Lexie needs it."

"Is she okay?" Meredith asked.

"She's bleeding again, bad," Mark explained. "I don't know where; it could be her tamponade but she's sitting in cockpit and she just threw-up blood."

Meredith jumped to her feet, ready to run to her little sister when Cristina opened her mouth: "Maybe Lexie and Derek should lie on top of each other. Owen told me about this time in Iraq when one of his soldiers was bleeding out from every direction. They didn't have any hospitals nearby so Owen just lied on top of him, compressing the bleeding with his own body until they could get him somewhere. It's his favorite surgery he's ever done."

It was an interesting idea; Meredith had never known about the story and she smiled. That kind of work sounded exhilarating, or it would, if the patients were not her loved ones. "That's awesome, and… and the guy lived? The… the soldier… I mean?"

"He made it home to his family, yeah… and then he killed himself… shot himself in the temple," Cristina said and there was an awkward pause.

"Well, that's depressing. You shouldn't have told us that last part, Yang," Mark said.

Meredith did not say anything. She had known a long time ago, of course, that it was not wise to believe in fairytales and magic. That was part of the reason she was so dark and twisty inside. But working in medicine had taught Meredith a lot and part of that was that things did not always end in disaster. She knew that she never should have lived after nearly drowning in Elliott Bay during her intern year. She knew that Derek should have died when Gary Clark shot him but they had lived so that had to mean something.

It had to mean that there was something else in the cards for them and Meredith refused to believe that that _something _was her interfering with the Alzheimer's trial last year. Maybe it meant that they were supposed to have more kids or save more lives but not die here in this plane crash…

_What are you talking about? It wasn't God or any kind of higher power that saved you from drowning,_ Meredith told herself as she followed Mark over to the cockpit. _It was pure luck… it was medicine; it was your heart being somewhat healthy…_

As soon as she saw her sister, Meredith's current heart dropped. Lexie had taken a drastic turn for the worse. Although she was breathing, Lexie's face was covered in a sheer layer of sweat, her skin was burning, and her body, quivering. Fresh blood was splattered across her Stanford sweatshirt and the cockpit floor.

"Lexie," Meredith said and squeezed her hand. "L-Lexie, can… can you hear me?"

"M-Mer," Lexie moaned and turned her head a fraction of an inch; there was blood caked in her teeth.

"I know… I know it's hard; I know… it hurts," Meredith said and wet a nearby cloth which she used to wipe her sister's forehead. "But people are coming… r-really soon, okay? The sky is… is clear and… and Owen is gonna find us today… without a p-problem."

Lexie nodded slowly. "Mer, I… I don't know… I don't wanna… keep… keep d-doing… this…"

"Keep doing… what? B-Being a surgeon?" Meredith asked.

"N-No, I… I don't wanna… wait… n-not anymore… I wanna see… my m-mom and… and George… I wanna see… R-Reed and… and Charles… Vivian… she was… she was my… friend," Lexie whispered.

Meredith shook her head, hard. "N-No… no, you aren't gonna… see your mom anytime soon, Lexie. I'm… I'm sorry but… but that's just the way… it goes. We're… we're g-gonna go home… and see Dad. We're gonna… make our… our amends and… and I'll start calling him… D-Dad… all the time, okay?"

"D-Don't say it… cause… cause I want you to," Lexie begged. "I… I just… thought it… was done, I… I thought… I was over… my life was over… in Seattle just… just cause of… M-Mark and… and Jackson… who broke up with me… cause… cause… I still… love Mark. I… I thought… I didn't have… have anyone but… I've never… n-never done that… been that girl who… obsesses… over boys…"

"I know," Meredith said and brushed Lexie's hair gently; it was what Lexie apparently liked when she was hurt. "I know you're not. Does Mark… does he know you… you still love him? D-Did you tell him?"

Lexie nodded shortly but it did not appear to make her any happier. "I… when you did… your boards, I… I did this… b-big, dramatic… speech. I said… I love him and… I love him…"

"Well… Mark loves you, too… Lexie. He loves you… so much and that's easy to see because… this whole time… he hasn't wanted to let… anyone… else… touch you," Meredith said. "W-When we found you… he… he pushed me outta the way… I can… I can almost p-promise you… when we get home… he's gonna break-up with… Julia."

That part was not a lie. That part was not Meredith trying to make her sister feel better. Life-threatening situations, like the one they were in, tended to make people realize what was truly important and it had been evident from the moment the plane crashed that Mark had come to his conclusion- he loved Lexie. Meredith told herself that when they got home to Seattle and healed, that she would be the Maid of Honor in Mark and Lexie's wedding.

"Okay…" Lexie choked out; it did not sound like she believed Meredith. "Mer… can you… can you do… it… do something… for me…"

"Of course," Meredith said. "Of course… anything."

Every breath was sapping Lexie of all her energy. "If… if I… die…"

"You… are not g-going… to die," Meredith interrupted. "I… I don't… even… want to hear… you… say that."

"P-Please… p-please, I… I need… you to know… cause… cause M-Mark… he won't… listen," Lexie begged; tears were pooling in her eyes and mixing with the droplets of sweat running from her forehead.

There was a chance that this was it, right here and now. Meredith did not want to let her mind wander that way, but if Lexie did die, Meredith knew that she would never forgive herself for refusing to listen to her sister's final request.

"Okay… okay, I'm… I'm listening," Meredith promised.

"If… if I… die… I… I want you to… g-give a… eulogy… you and… M-Molly. G-get to… know her. She's… she's r-really… g-great," Lexie whispered. "And… and I want… I want you to… to be there… for D-Dad… even if… I'm… not there. I… I w-want… to be… buried… next to… m-my mom."

Meredith brushed the tears that were rapidly falling from her own eyes away; Lexie did not need to see that right now. "Y-Yeah, okay… I'll… I'll m-make sure we do that if… if it comes to that but… but Lex, I… I r-really don't think it will… you're… you're strong… you'll… you'll m-make it…"

"There's… there's something… else," Lexie gasped but before she could finish, she must have run out of strength. Lexie reached forward with her good arm and clutched onto Meredith's scrub top like it was a life vest. She could not speak anymore, but Meredith understood the message.

"Okay. Okay, I'm g-gonna stay right here," Meredith said; she climbed further into the cockpit where she sat in between Lexie and dead Jerry. She could feel Jerry's cold skin on her own but that did not matter. She held Lexie close and let her shut her eyes because as long as Meredith was there, she had faith that Lexie would not give up.

_**I love sweet sister moments between Mer and Lexie! And I am so sorry about having to kill Jerry. In a perfect world, everyone would have been able to live but I just thought it was a little unrealistic for all six surgeons to make it out of the woods alive along with Jerry and I obviously am not going to kill my Seattle Grace Six. Plus Jerry's death will actually have some meaning down the road, I believe! Also, um… yes, the names of Jerry's wife and daughter were my first Twitter shoutout, for those of you who follow me on there. Love you, Alicia and Katie. **_

_**Thank you so much to everyone for reading again! Don't forget to follow/favorite/review! Xoxo, merderpedia **_


	8. Stronger (What Doesn't Kill You)

_**A/N- Just a warning, this chapter and the next chapter (the last two that take place in the woods) are probably going to be the hardest to read. (They sure are proving to be the hardest to write.) That being said, thank you SO much for all of the amazing reviews I received on my last chapter. It truly means so much to me that you guys think I am a talented writer. **_

_**Also… disclaimer. The first half of this chapter is told from Meredith's POV in the woods. The second half, after the line of "MTB" is from Owen's POV at Seattle Grace. Hopefully you realize that, but if not, I wanted to tell you because Fanfiction dot Net has not been great about recognizing my chapter separations. Okay… ENJOY!**_

Lexie was not the only one struggling to remain strong. Meredith was also having a hard time staying vigilant. It felt like she had been curled inside the cockpit forever, sandwiched in between a dead pilot and an almost-dead sister. While slipping in and out of consciousness, Meredith took any opportunity she had to touch Lexie's carotid artery with her fingers… to make sure that Lexie was still breathing… it was more important that Lexie survived than Meredith… Lexie and Derek… otherwise, Meredith never would have offered up her life for them in the shooting…

Cristina found the two sisters an hour or two later and updated Meredith on the others- Mark was in a lot of pain so he had finally accepted some Tylenol. Arizona was burning up, with a fever of 103.3 and so she had also received more medication.

"Is Derek okay?" Meredith whispered because Lexie was asleep.

"Um… his hand is definitely getting infected and he's still losing blood. He keeps saying that his chest hurts but I think… I hope it's because of his broken ribs," Cristina explained. "You should come see him, Meredith."

"Okay, help me move Lexie; she… she doesn't want to be… alone," Meredith said.

Ten minutes later, with Lexie and her oxygen tank lying on the ground next to them, Meredith knelt down by Derek who was circling the drain as well. His skin was pale white, he was gasping for air, and like Lexie, there was sweat dripping down his face and neck.

Meredith knew that a fever was not usually fatal- any doctor knew that but this was not a normal kind of fever. Meredith saw fevers every day in the hospital and they almost never looked like this. When they did, that was when the patient got rushed to triage in the emergency room.

"Derek?" Meredith called and when he looked her way, she laid a cool hand on his forehead which indeed, was on fire. "Derek, you… you have an infection of… of some sort. You have a r-really high fever and we need to… to take your temperature. D-Do you understand?"

Derek nodded as he continued to gasp with a crazed look in his eyes. "I… I know…"

"Okay," Meredith said and put the thermometer in his mouth. Seconds later, the buzzer went off and the numbers told the story: 104.1 degrees.

"He needs the Tylenol. He needs it more than Lexie," Cristina said but as she took the last two pills out of the bottle, she stopped short and Meredith knew why.

"There's not any water, is there?"

"I… no, I… I forgot…"

Meredith gave her friend a brief, panicked expression but then went back to being the caring wife. She pulled Derek's shoulders up. "Derek, we need you to sit up. P-Please, you need to try to… to sit up for me, okay?"

"Okay," Derek whispered and he did manage to get himself up halfway, although all his weight was against Meredith. "I'm… I'm sick… I don't get sick…"

"I know and… and we have some Tylenol for you, okay? It should help the fever… go down," Meredith said and took the pills from Cristina. "The only problem is… is we don't… have any w-water left."

Derek's eyes went big and scared. "No… no more water?!"

"No… we… we gave the rest of it to… to Arizona and Lexie cause… cause they weren't… d-doing very well," Meredith said. "So… I'm gonna put the pill in your mouth… and you're g-gonna have to get it down, okay? Let it dissolve… if you have to… it's… it's gonna taste bad but… we have to… get your fever d-down."

"Okay," Derek agreed and so Meredith put the first of two pills in his mouth and waited.

It did not take long. Either the taste or the texture must have registered because Derek began gagging. Meredith covered his mouth with one of her hands and tried to force the medicine down but all that happened was that Derek threw-up- onto her hand and across the grass. It was probably a mixture of dehydration, infection, and his attempt to swallow the Tylenol.

"Shh, you're okay," Meredith said and rubbed her husband's back as he continued to cough and retch. She was initially surprised that there was anything left to come up besides bile because Derek could not have anything in his stomach but then Meredith saw the red blood cells. Derek was vomiting blood again, too.

When he finally stopped heaving, Meredith tried her best to hide her anxiety and used the sleeve of her coat to wipe the sweat and vomit off Derek's face. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I love you…"

"I… I love you… too," Derek whispered. "I'm… sorry…"

"Don't apologize. We'll save… the other pill for… for later and see if… if we can get some water or something," Meredith decided. "You just um… you're just g-gonna need to lie down and… and try to breathe, okay? I… I don't know, um… what else we can do… for… for a fever."

Derek did not move from where he was leaned up against Meredith. He was breathing and his eyes were open but it was like he was too exhausted to move.

Meredith looked at Cristina. "They're gonna come today… they have to… to come today, right?!"

"Yeah… yeah, they'll come today. Don't worry, Derek," Cristina said.

"I'm… I'm so… thirsty," Derek gasped. "Aren't there… is there… w-water…"

"There's no more water… r-right now," Meredith said and she hated herself for giving as much as she had to Lexie. All they needed was a swallow for Derek or they needed it to rain again.

_What if you honestly had to choose between keeping your sister alive or your husband?_ Meredith wondered to herself but then she knew the answer. She would choose Derek. But that did not mean that she would not be damaged beyond repair if Lexie died…

For now, Meredith helped Derek lie back down on the grass and covered him with one of the Seattle Grace jackets. She stroked his hair and held his hand and prayed more than ever for a chopper even if it meant staying in the woods herself… Meredith would lie here forever if it meant that Derek could get home to Zola.

"How are you feeling?" Cristina asked and it took Meredith a moment to realize that she was being addressed.

"I'm… I'm tired and… I'm dizzy and I want some… d-damn water for my husband because… b-because everyone is… is puking b-blood and the… the sky is falling, Cristina!" Meredith cried and then took a deep, steadying breath. "What about you; are you… okay?"

Cristina shrugged. "I mean, I'm dehydrated as hell but yeah, I'm okay. I know I got lucky… a dislocated shoulder and a fractured collarbone really isn't bad as far as a plane crash goes…"

"Yeah," Meredith said. She knew that she had gotten lucky, too. She had her concussion, her head wound, a deep cut on her leg, broken ribs, and a strained back, but other than that, Meredith was relatively unhurt. It could have been so much worse. She could have broken major bones or suffered internal bleeding.

But at some moments, it was hard to feel lucky. Meredith was beginning to feel seriously sick, and she knew that it was not on account of the flu. She was dehydrated like everyone else and she was pretty sure that the injury on her thigh was becoming infected. It was turning a darker shade of red by the hour and occasionally, Meredith's head would start to bleed again because they had no actual treatment… she had a fever; they all had fevers… she wondered if she was going to die before Derek or Lexie…

"Cristina… I need you to… find um… some kind of cream," Meredith said when the sky was turning dark for a third consecutive night. "Is there any… antibacterial cream or… or anything because… I think I'm… I'm infected…"

"Oh, God… not you, too," Cristina said and searched through the mostly empty suitcase. "If we had antibacterial cream, we would have used it on Arizona and Derek… we have hand sanitizer."

"Okay… okay, that'll work," Meredith agreed and squeezed Derek's hand, even though he was asleep while Cristina worked on her thigh injury.

Derek was not exaggerating when he reacted to his hand pain. As soon as Cristina rubbed the alcoholic-liquid into Meredith's wound, it was like her entire leg was on fire. She screamed at the top of her lungs; she wished that they had done nothing…

"I'm almost done, Mer; hold on," Cristina said but the burning went on and Meredith screamed again; she had not known that this kind of pain existed…

"Okay, I'm done!" Cristina held her hands up just as Derek jerked awake, his eyes full of concern.

"Mer… Mer, what's wrong…"

He was still weak and feverish; Meredith knew she could not worry him right now. She wiped away her tears and forced a smile on her face. "Nothing's wrong… I just um… Cristina put some… some hand sanitizer on one of my little cuts and it… it r-really hurt."

"Are you okay… are we okay…"

"We are okay," Meredith lied and she noticed as she touched Derek's face that he was as hot as ever… how high could a fever get before it did permanent damage? Meredith could not remember…

They were not okay… they were not okay in the slightest. Derek and Meredith were both a mess… Lexie was near death and Arizona's leg was infected. If something did not happen soon, she was in serious danger of losing the entire leg… Mark was putting on a brave face but the elements were getting to him.

Cristina was in relatively good shape, aside from the dehydration and dislocated shoulder but Meredith could feel her fever taking over. She was still losing blood. Her leg was not infected to the degree that amputation was in the equation but it was leaking blood and pus which was never a good sign. She was beginning to side with Lexie; she was not sure if she wanted to fight anymore.

It was approximately an hour or two later. Cristina had just taken Meredith's temperature which had risen to 101.8 degrees. Derek was unconscious, Lexie was unconscious, and Cristina had just gotten up to attend to Arizona who was vomiting bile. Mark was asleep but breathing unevenly.

Meredith could not move from where she was leaned up against the plane wreckage. She stared up at the sky and watched as a single bird flew overhead. She was jealous of that bird; it could go wherever it wanted. It could fly out of the woods and to a hospital or to someone for help. Maybe it could even go visit heaven.

Her entire life, Meredith had never believed in heaven or God. She was a scientist and had been raised by a scientist… Ellis Grey made sure that her daughter never put any faith in things that could not be proven by science. That had always been the way life was… but right now as blood seeped out of Meredith's leg and Lexie was inching away from this life, Meredith figured it was time to put her faith somewhere… George had to exist somewhere, right?

_Of course he does. Of course there's a heaven, _Meredith told herself. _You've been there, remember? You visited Denny and the guy from the Bomb Squad… and Doc… they're all there…_

But the life that Meredith had known so far was gone a long time ago. She watched the bird as it perched itself in a tree and tried not to think about how much she wanted to drink the hand sanitizer that remained. She focused on the bird who at the moment, was smarter and more functional than any of Seattle's best surgeons.

_You can go anywhere in the damn world and you choose to stay right here,_ Meredith said to the bird in her head. Maybe the bird was not so smart after all.

**MTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTB**

He had not slept in over 36 hours but Owen Hunt did not stop moving. He refused to stop looking, not until he knew for certain that Cristina, Meredith, Derek, Mark, Arizona, and Lexie were all dead and gone… and even then, Owen swore to himself that he would find the money in Seattle Grace's budget to pay for all of their funerals.

Search and Rescue had been out for hours already. Once, they had called Owen, thinking that they had found one of the bodies but it turned out that the "body" was a sleeping camper. Owen could not decide if he was more relieved or disappointed at this revelation.

All of the families of the missing surgeons had been at the hospital almost constantly. Thatcher Grey lived nearby so he had gone home a couple times but Arizona's parents were currently living in an on-call room on the second floor and Carolyn Shepherd had booked a hotel less than a mile away; everyone wanted to be at Seattle Grace if and when the plane crash survivors arrived.

Eventually, Owen was forced to tell the families what the police officer had told him. The news had spread to the media and again, he did not want any of them to find out that way.

"There is absolutely still a chance. We have seen all kinds of medical miracles here and around the world," Owen told everyone in a private conference. "I am only telling you what the airport stated because I don't want you to overhear something and assume outcomes that are not necessarily true."

That speech did not appear to provide much comfort. Callie Torres had not stopped crying in over 24 hours and Arizona's parents were reaching out to friends and family across the country. Alex Karev insisted that he was alright and continued to practice medicine but Owen made sure to keep a close eye on him as he performed procedures only in the pit. It was doubtless that Karev was hiding a lot of internal pain and anxiety.

It had been a little over 24 hours since the surgeons were due to return to Seattle when Search and Rescue landed their helicopter on the roof of Seattle Grace.

Owen sprinted up there to meet the paramedics, his heart beating dangerously fast. "What did you find?! Why didn't you call?!"

"Sorry, Hunt. Heavy rain and fog is moving into the area so we had to come back early. We'll get started again early tomorrow," one of the paramedics said.

"Rain?! You're letting rain stop you from finding my surgeons?!" Owen shouted. "I don't care if there's a damn hurricane out there! FIND MY SURGEONS before they drown!"

But the same paramedic shook his head. "It would be more dangerous than now, sir. Even if we found the surgeons, there would be no way to get them back here safely. We will pick things up early tomorrow. We'll find them tomorrow, okay? I promise."

"Don't promise things you can't control," Owen said and then stormed back downstairs to the trauma center to inform the nurses that nothing was happening tonight.

The surgeons' families insisted that Owen get a little sleep so he tried. He went into one of the empty on-call rooms, showered, and then laid down. He had no desire to eat anything. How could he, when Cristina was lost in the woods, potentially dead? How could he when five of his other closest friends were with her?

Sooner or later, Owen did manage to doze off for a short time, intermittently. His body was exhausted, physically and mentally, so he slept for around 45 minutes and then woke-up before passing out for another hour. It continued like that until 4:00 in the morning when Owen got up, convinced he had secured around four hours of sleep in all. That was more than enough.

Downstairs in the lobby, all of the families were already awake and waiting. Carolyn Shepherd kept pacing back and forth and the Robbins family was gathered with Callie like usual. There was a new face that Owen had not seen before, an Asian woman that he knew was related to Cristina. Owen approached her, carefully. "How are we holding up today, ma'am?"

"I'd be a lot better if you could tell me whether my daughter is alive or not!" the woman snapped. "I mean, honestly, I got up here to Seattle from Beverly Hills by train faster than you can get to Boise, Idaho!"

"I understand your frustration, Mrs. Yang," Owen said. "I assure you that Search and Rescue will get to the bottom of this. They're heading out again now and we are ready for them."

"But you said… you said that most likely, there aren't any survivors," Carolyn Shepherd whispered like she did not want to remember.

"I know what I said," Owen agreed. "But I'm not giving up and I know you aren't either. Derek is strong and he's an optimist. Optimism can be life-changing in a situation like this. Search and Rescue still hasn't covered a majority of the ground in between here and Boise and they could be fine. They could be out there with food and water just waiting for a chopper."

In between speaking with the families and contacting the police, Owen did still have a job to do. He was a surgeon and Seattle Grace was without more than half of their greatest surgeons between the ones missing and the ones unable to operate.

To try to take his mind off of the grave mood, Owen performed a surgery on a young adult named Payton who had been in a car accident and it made him feel good, if just for a moment, when her parents embraced him in thanks. Owen knew that Webber and Bailey were both operating a little too; they had each done an appendectomy and gallbladder removal since the plane crash.

When Payton's surgery was finished, Owen was sure that there would be news waiting. Search and Rescue had been out in the woods all day and a helicopter could not look for over twelve hours and not find anything. Owen ran up to the roof of Seattle Grace again, sure that even if they had not found the crew alive, they would have found them… or at least found some revealing clues.

"What's the verdict?" he asked as the chief paramedic hopped out of the chopper.

"I don't know what to tell you, Dr. Hunt," the paramedic sighed. "We flew all the way from here to Boise and back. There's no sign of them. It's like they disappeared."

_It's like they disappeared._ That was the best that a team of paramedics and Coast Guard soldiers could do?!

"Well, they didn't just disappear!" Owen said. "My surgeons are out there somewhere, dead or alive. If you can't find their bodies, then you should at least be able to locate the remains of a damn airplane! You must be looking in the wrong places."

What was he supposed to tell the dozens of people that had now gathered downstairs? There were family members crying and praying for their loved ones… church groups and ex-patients had come to offer their support. There were journalists and news reporters from around the country and according to Search and Rescue, Owen was supposed to go down there and tell them that Derek Shepherd, Mark Sloan, Arizona Robbins, Cristina Yang, Meredith Grey, and Lexie Grey had… vanished.

Before Owen got there though, he ran into Webber who was eager for news. "What did they say? Did they find any of the plane?"

"Nothing… they found absolutely nothing and it's like they've already given up hope," Owen said. "Isn't it these people's jobs to never give up hope, just like it is ours?"

Webber sighed. "That's not necessarily true though… our job is to never give up hope as long as we know the body can recover. There is a point when we stop doing CPR, when we don't give them anymore blood because we know it's a lost cause."

"So you're saying you've given up, too… you think they're all dead and they're never coming back," Owen said and it was more of a statement than a question.

"I wish I could offer something differently. You have no idea how much I wish I could," Webber said. "But I just had a long talk with the police chief. We know each other well from the shooting here and the one at Pacific College. He's honest with me and I believe him. He said that he had little hope that our people were alive from the beginning and if they haven't been found by now… he thinks there's virtually no chance they could have survived the rainstorm."

Owen's eyes were full of tears for the first time. He could barely choke out his next sentence: "So you're… you're saying my wife is dead…"

"I'm saying… I don't know what I'm saying. If I am, I'm also saying that Ellis Grey's little girl is dead, and that I was supposed to protect her. I'm saying the greatest neurosurgeon in the country is dead and… and… I don't know. I don't know what to say."

It was not any easier for Webber than it was for Owen and the two men shared a quick yet heartfelt embrace. Owen squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to think about how terrified they must have been… he pictured Derek and Meredith holding hands… maybe Lexie and Mark together… who was with Cristina? Was anyone there to comfort her in those last few moments, as the plane went down?

And then, even though he was a doctor and knew that he should not think this way, part of Owen could not help but wonder… did it hurt? Did they suffer or was it quick? Was there a chance that they could have lived if they had been found faster or was it over from the moment that the plane hit the trees? Owen hoped it was the latter, if they really were dead.

As soon as Owen walked into the hospital lobby downstairs, he was swarmed by family, friends, and other loved ones. Callie Torres was stable, for once, and Owen knew that it was because she had allowed herself to feel hope. Everyone was hoping that Owen had good news, or if not good news, then news of some sort.

Owen stood on the main staircase like he typically did when making announcements to his staff and sighed. "I have been in contact with both the Chief of Police and Search and Rescue. Today our helicopter flew all the way from Seattle to Boise and back. Unfortunately, they have found no signs of our people."

"They didn't even find the plane?" Carolyn Shepherd clarified.

"No, but in a way, that's better because if they had found the plane but not the surgeons then it would almost certainly mean that they had died upon impact," Owen said. "I know what you all must be going through. I wish I could provide better feedback but as of right now, this is all we know."

Arizona's father stepped forward. "Listen, Hunt. I've served in the United States Military for longer than you've been alive. You don't just give up on your people. Tell your search team that they're not looking in the right damn places. Tell them to follow a different path; do you know how many different routes that pilot could have taken?"

"I do and we are not giving up by any means, Mr. Robbins," Owen said.

"That's _Colonel _Robbins. _The _Colonel," Arizona's father stated.

"I'm sorry, Colonel Robbins," Owen apologized. "And I repeat, we are not and never will give up. We will find Arizona and all the other surgeons, no matter what."

"Do you really think there's a chance they're still alive?" Arizona's mother asked.

Owen took another deep breath and shrugged. "I don't know. I wish I did. I don't like to pull the personal-card because I assure you that I would be trying my hardest to find your loved ones no matter their relations but let me remind you all that my wife was on that plane. I… I won't stop until I find her and all the others."

This appeared to do the job for now; the families wandered off again, forced to accept Owen's explanation.

Owen trudged back upstairs and laid down in an on-call room. He knew that he could not and would not go home, not until the surgeons were found. He closed his eyes and tried his best to get a few hours of sleep but it did not work; how could it work?

Hours later, after Owen tossed and turned and talked with some of his military friends about possibly bringing in the army, he knew that he could not do it anymore. He could not sit here and do nothing and put the surgeons' lives in other people's hands.

He caught up with Search and Rescue who were preparing to head out for the third straight day. It had been almost four days since the plane went down.

"I'm coming with you guys," Owen decided and threw on one of the spare Seattle Grace coats. "When you find our people, they're going to need immediate medical attention and luckily, I'm a doctor."

The first paramedic appeared uncertain but Owen gave him a look. "I'm the chief of surgery. If you think I'm accepting no for an answer, you shouldn't even be here. We're not coming back until we find them, understood?"

Owen did not wait for an answer but he followed Search and Rescue out the door, glancing back only once to shout, "Webber, you're in charge!"

_**Don't forget to follow/favorite/review! All of those things make me very happy and they give the surgeons strength to continue fighting. :) xoxo, merderpedia **_


	9. The Pack

_**A/N- Warning… this is the LAST CHAPTER that actually takes place in the woods. (HALLELUJAH!) That being said, this is probably the most depressing chapter in my entire story which is saying a lot. It's the finale of the actual plane crash itself, and of course it has to be super dramatic. To be safe, I am going to rate this specific chapter "M" because things do get a bit gory etc. Um… enjoy and please take comfort in the fact that RESCUE IS COMING. (Sorry for the *SPOILER* but I mean… I'm guessing you knew that was coming eventually.)**_

When Meredith was eighteen, she had sworn to herself three things: she was never going to get married, she was never going to become a surgeon, and she definitely was never going to be a mother because she knew that she would be a horrible one.

Now, Meredith was 34 years old. She was married to the love of her life, Derek Shepherd and she had a precious, 18-month-old baby girl at home named Zola. She had even managed to become a board-certified general surgeon but no matter what Meredith accomplished, it was like life was determined to punish her because here she was, lying on the forest floor, near death… and all she had been trying to do was help two conjoined twins.

The third night in the woods was the worst yet. By now, the doctors had completely run out of everything… water, clothes, Tylenol… Mark was sleeping next to Lexie, too weak to stay up and monitor her personally but Meredith did not think it would have done much good anyway. Part of Lexie had given up and without Lexie trying to stay alive, it would be nearly impossible for anyone else to keep her alive.

Meredith tried to stay awake and help Cristina who had become the only surgeon well enough to assist the others. It was so difficult… Meredith could feel her body shutting down and she kept thinking that if she was going to die young, she would have much rather get shot in the head or drown in Elliott Bay. At least those methods of dying were quick… the last thing Meredith wanted was to suffer every step of the way.

_I wish I had just gotten blown-up by the bomb during my intern year,_ Meredith thought to herself as she drifted off to sleep. She watched as Cristina tried to rewrap Arizona's leg with leaves because the bugs had continued nesting in the wound, eating her alive.

No matter how exhausted Meredith felt though, she could not sleep for long because Cristina saw to that.

"Mer, wake-up. You've got to stay awake," she said what felt like every half-hour.

"But… I'm so… tired," Meredith argued. She tried to sit forward and keep her eyes open; as a doctor, she knew that was what she was supposed to do but it was hard. It was so hard and the only thing that kept Meredith going was the fact that Lexie and Derek were somehow, still alive… without them, and maybe Cristina, there was no point in living.

At around 2:00 in the morning, according to her watch, Meredith's eyes flew open but it was not due to any urging from Cristina. She heard a sound nearby and she grabbed a chunk of grass to help pull herself into a sitting position.

Meredith's original assumption that help was coming quickly disappeared. The noise she heard was a low growl and Meredith knew for a fact that it was some kind of wild animal. Wolves? A bear? A mountain lion?

"Cristina," Meredith whispered softly; she wanted to make sure that she was not the only one awake… she wanted to make sure that she was not alone.

There was not an answer so Meredith crawled forward and as she peeked around the corner of the plane wreckage, she received her confirmation: there were several huge, gray wolves congregating nearby. Meredith had seen the wolves before; the pack had been pacing around the crash site the last few nights but they had never come this close. The animals were currently sniffing at the ground surrounding the surgeons, edging dangerously close to Mark and Lexie.

Unlike her younger sister, Meredith had never been a member of the Girl Scouts. She had never received any kind of training when it came to dealing with wildlife but at this point, none of that mattered. Meredith's survival instincts were kicking in and instructing her on what to do… _play dead._

Meredith lay perfectly still and hoped that all of the other doctors would be smart enough to do the same. She prayed that all the others would sleep through this nightmare, that the wolves would move on like they had last night and find other sources of food.

As the seconds ticked on like hours, however, Meredith's wish seemed less and less likely to come true. The wolves were not going anywhere. In fact, they were growing more interested in the easy prey available. Meredith watched through her squinted eyelids as one of the largest wolves snuck its snoot right down in Lexie's face, inhaling the stench of her dried blood.

That was it; they were past the point of playing dead. Meredith yanked herself up into a sitting position once again and began scrambling around, doing everything she could to wake everyone.

"Cristina! Cristina, come on… we need to hide."

"Derek, we need to get you inside the cockpit… either that or… or behind some of the wreckage. The wolves are trying to eat us."

"Arizona! Arizona, come on. I'll help you; we… we need to do something!"

But Arizona did not stir. She was alive, and awake, her eyes staring up at Meredith in fear but it was obvious that Arizona was too terrified to move, too scared to defend herself.

Cristina was conscious, too, and looking at Meredith, the expression on her face both afraid and conflicted… should she run with Meredith now and save herself or wait around and try to save the others?

Well, that was a decision that Cristina would have to make for herself but Meredith knew what she was going to do. She was going to do everything in her power to save Derek and Lexie… Derek and Lexie had made it this far and they were not going to be killed by a hungry pack of wolves.

"Derek!" Meredith repeated and her husband groggily opened his eyes. "Derek, we gotta go… the… the plane or the cockpit… there's wolves and…"

Meredith did not need to explain any further. Derek may have been lying down but he could easily observe the scene and he widened his eyes in shock. "G-Get me up… Mer, help me… get up…"

"That's what I've b-been trying… to do," Meredith said. Ignoring the painful throbs that were coming from her broken ribs, she hauled Derek up into a sitting position. "Okay… okay, come on… we're… we can get in…"

"No," Derek interrupted and he could barely move but he managed to position himself in front of his wife, protecting her. "Stay… stay b-behind me… whatever… you do… stay behind… me."

She thought about fighting some more but then Meredith realized it was pointless. Even if Derek was not stupid enough to sacrifice himself for his wife, he had absolutely no strength to get up and move into the cockpit. Therefore, Meredith was not going to go anywhere either.

All Meredith could do was sit there behind her husband and watch as the wolves wandered around, licking at the blood that was still splattered across the grass, growling whenever one of the surgeons stirred.

Meredith was telling herself that the wolves had to move on soon, just as they had last night, when suddenly, the same wolf that was smelling Lexie before returned to its original place. And this time, the wolf did more than sniff around… it clawed at Lexie, as if she was already dead, as if she was a decaying piece of meat, and Meredith's little sister let out a long, high-pitched wail.

There was rapid movement. Mark had jumped up and thrown himself on top of Lexie to protect her and then a male voice was yelling for help.

"HEY!" Meredith screamed at the top of her lungs. "HEY, GET… AWAY… FROM… THEM!"

She waved her old hiking stick above her head, trying to appear as threatening as possible and from nearby, Cristina tossed a few small rocks at the wolves. But not even two, crazy doctors were enough to scare these animals away. The loud, erratic behavior from Meredith and Cristina just made the wolves angrier and Meredith only had about three seconds to process what had happened before the dogs were turning on her and Cristina, approaching them with bared teeth and matted, bloody fur.

This time, Meredith attempted to position herself in front of Derek to preserve him but it was no use. The wolves were relentless; one of them was starting to gnaw on Arizona's leg and another was clawing at the dressing on Derek's abdomen.

Meredith had all but accepted the fact that she was going to be eaten alive when she remembered that what the wolves wanted more than anything was meat, meat that was already dead… and luckily, the surgeons had some of that.

"Help me!" Meredith screamed to Cristina and without thinking, she ran over to the cockpit. She grabbed poor Jerry by the shirt and pulled with all her strength.

Cristina hesitated but only for a second and then she scrambled over and helped tug Jerry's body out of the plane. Together, Meredith and Cristina tossed him into the clearing, a distance away and instantly, the wolves abandoned their attempts to eat Lexie, Mark, Arizona, and Derek.

The pack swarmed the pilot. They dragged his body into the trees. Meredith began sobbing uncontrollably because she had never sacrificed human life like that and granted, Jerry was already dead but it did not make her feel any better.

If it had not been for Lexie, Meredith probably would have sat there, in shock, forever, but the question was looming in the darkness. Meredith's body had gone numb so she was forced to crawl over to her sister, doing everything she could to ignore the sounds of the wolves devouring Jerry Haynes.

Somehow, Lexie was alive but her breathing was more ragged than ever. Lying on her back with the oxygen mask covering her face, Lexie was gasping for air, fresh blood running down the side of her face as a result of the wolves' sharp claws.

Mark was alive and awake, as well but he was covered in claw marks and was clearly in a state of shock. Cristina was trying to talk to him, asking him the usual: _Do you know where you are? Do you know your full name? Can you see how many fingers I'm holding up?_

Apparently, Mark was not responding because Cristina turned around and yelled something to Meredith, asking her for help but Meredith would not, could not help any longer. She curled into the fetal position on the ground and wrapped her arms around her chest to try and close the hole that had appeared there, that was never going to be the same again. She tried to block everything out but the more that Meredith tried, the more those images seeped further into her brain.

The wolves were probably going to come back for seconds and eat everyone…

Dawn was breaking when Meredith woke-up again and realized that she had fallen back asleep in the first place, or else passed-out. Her entire body was quivering with chills and although the wolves were gone, the damage had been done. Jerry's body was nowhere to be seen.

It was officially day four of being stranded in the woods. Almost 72 hours had passed since the plane had originally gone down. Meredith could feel herself shutting down, her body unable to endure anymore blood loss, dehydration, and trauma; everything that had occurred last night had been the icing on the cake.

By this point, Meredith knew that the surgeons were never going to get out… they were never going to see anything outside of this bitter, cold forest again. Meredith was never going to hug Zola or tease Alex or learn from Webber and Bailey… she knew that and maybe it was okay. Because to be honest, Meredith was so dizzy and beyond the point of caring whether she lived or died. She had last drank water over 48 hours ago and her body was finished fighting for something that was never going to come…

Plus, Meredith was going crazy. Whenever she looked up at the sky, she saw what looked like hundreds of neon blue birds flying around, singing a song that she thought she knew from her were swirling, orange patterns dancing in Meredith's peripheral vision. Hallucinations were never a good sign.

Still, the small part of Meredith that remained a doctor told herself that she could not die or give up until she knew that all of the other surgeons had either passed away themselves or been rescued. Prior to doing anything, Meredith had to do rounds and make sure that everyone else was still alive.

Meredith tried to stand but she ended up having to crawl around their small campsite, which was still tinted with gore and blood from the night before. With every step that she took, Meredith grew more nauseous but she clamped her mouth shut and forced her remaining fluids to stay inside… she forced herself to try, one more time…

Lexie was the priority, especially after the sounds that she had been making recently so Meredith headed in what she thought was the direction of her little sister. Sure enough, Lexie was lying on the ground nearby, and Mark was sitting up next to her, staring out into space. They were both considerably worse for wear after the night with the wolf pack. Mark had a lot of scratches on his face and chest. At some point in the night, Lexie had both urinated on herself and had a bowel movement that had seeped through her decaying scrub pants.

"M-Mark…?" Meredith coughed out from her awkward, downward stance. "Is… is she…?"

"She's… she's unresponsive," Mark said in a hollow, lifeless voice. "Last night, it… it pushed her over the edge. It… it pushed us all… over. We're… we're losing her."

Even 24 hours ago, Meredith would have protested. She would have told Mark that he was being stupid, that Lexie was going to be fine because for some reason, Meredith had experienced bouts of optimism out here in the forest. It was hard to argue now, though. Meredith knew as well as everyone that Lexie was hanging by a thread.

"She um… she w-wanted me to… to tell you something," Mark continued, softly. "She told me to… to tell you that… that she loved you and… and that you were a good sister."

Meredith shook her head and wiped at her brimming eyes. "No, I… I wasn't."

"Well, Lexie thought… or… Lexie _thinks_ you are," Mark said, correcting himself halfway through his sentence. The doctors had already been speaking like Lexie had passed away.

"Lexie's too… she's… she's too g-good," Meredith sighed. "I… I don't… d-deserve her…"

"No one deserves her. Everyone… everyone in her life has always… taken her for g-granted. Her dad, her friends… me… but she still had something to say… to all of them. She wants you to… to tell your dad that she loves him, too and… and that he b-better stay sober, no matter what," Mark said.

That would be the most painful conversation of Meredith's life. She tried to picture a scenario where she made it out of the woods but Lexie did not… where she had to tell Thatcher that his favorite daughter was dead because of her… it was unimaginable. Meredith had grown up as an only child but now, she could not accept not having Lexie as her sister.

Any further angst was temporarily delayed by impending footsteps. Meredith looked up to see Cristina limping towards them. It appeared that she was now the only surgeon who could walk halfway decently.

"W-What's… going on? Is… is everyone… alive?" Meredith asked.

"I mean, everyone except for Jerry," Cristina said. "And I'm guessing Mark gave you the update on Lexie. Speaking of which, Mark, I want to try to clean your cuts again. I don't want your pretty, McSteamy face getting all infected and… and nasty."

Mark shook his head. "Hell no… no, you're not torturing me with… with that hand sanitizer… again."

"Would you rather contract rabies or something from one of those killer dogs?"

"I… I don't know. Maybe," Mark confessed. "W-Would that… kill me faster?"

Cristina snorted but she did not directly answer Mark. Everyone was giving up. It was heartbreaking, yet at the same time, no one could really place blame on one another or attempt to be the optimistic cheerleader. The wolves, the cold, the physical and mental trauma… it had erased everyone's spirit.

"Well, we should at least take our temperatures… see if that's gotten any worse," Cristina said and she took the thermometer out of her coat pocket, the only piece of medical equipment that the surgeons possessed.

Mark volunteered to go first, probably just to get Cristina off his back. Despite the frigid air, Mark's temperature had increased and now sat at 102.8 degrees. Cristina's was better, leveling out at 102.5 but not by much… Lexie's fever had gone up to 103.8.

"Her temperature is sky high but her pulse is low," Mark said, feeling Lexie's carotid artery with two fingers. "She's probably going septic."

It made sense, with the massive infection in Lexie's chest and lungs but this did not make the words any easier to digest. Meredith could not cry though, not anymore. She simply lied on the ground, her head resting on a pile of dry, dead leaves and thought about how she never knew it could hurt so badly to go numb.

"Okay, come on, Meredith," Cristina said and leaned forward, the freshly sanitized thermometer in her hands. "Come on, open your mouth."

Meredith robotically did as she was told. A few moments later, the buzzer went off. Cristina glanced at the reading and sighed again. "Shit… spiked to 103.1…"

"Awesome," Meredith said; her voice was coming out deep, like she had bronchitis.

Perhaps it was five minutes later or five hours later that Cristina returned from taking Arizona and Derek's temperatures, respectively. During the time that she was gone, Meredith had not stirred an inch… not to sit up, not to push her disgusting hair out of her face. Any amount of movement was too much to bear.

If there was one thing that could still catch Meredith's attention, though, it was Cristina's next words: "Mer, get up. Come on, you need to come here. It's Derek."

"W-What's wrong… with him?" Meredith asked, hauling herself up. "H-He's… he's… alive… r-right?"

"He's alive but…" Cristina trailed off and once Meredith had crawled over to her husband, she would realize why no explanation was needed.

Derek was worse than ever. His temperature was blazing at 105.1 degrees and his entire body was shaking with the chills. Derek's face and neck was drenched with sweat, yet pale white, and his eyes appeared dazed to the point of delirium. As if that was not enough by itself, blood was beginning to trickle out of Derek's mouth again and his hand was clearly infected.

"Oh, God… oh, God," Meredith whispered. "H-He's… he's… going… to die…"

"He… he won't die. We'll put a coat on him and break his fever," Cristina said, although they both knew there was no medical proof to that urban legend. It did not matter right now. They wrapped one of the dry coats from Seattle Grace around Derek's body; he did not respond to the action.

Meredith laid down next to him and thought back to a memory that came from her second year of residency, when her relationship with Derek was still inconsistent… when Derek had wanted everything and she had not and Derek had said: _I want to die when I'm 110 years old, in your arms. I don't want 48 uninterrupted hours; I want a lifetime._

Now, finally… Meredith wanted that, too. She wanted it all and it was too late. Derek was going to die in her arms but he was going to be 45 years old, not 110 and Meredith was going to die at 34…

It was too much. For the first time, Meredith understood how everyone else had felt after the shooting… how Cristina had felt. She would do anything to block out the pain… the physical, mental, and emotional pain… she would kill herself if it meant that she could transfer her remaining energy to Derek or Lexie…

Time dragged by. Meredith was not sure how long they had been out here in the woods anymore. Had the plane crashed three days ago or three weeks ago? Had they really only passed their boards approximately one week ago? That did not seem right. Meredith almost laughed at the fact that a week ago, her biggest problems consisted of having the stomach flu and choosing a fellowship program. Meredith would have failed her boards, gladly, if it meant that the plane never would have crashed.

It was early afternoon and Meredith was lying next to Derek, watching as thousands of fairy lights bounced up and down in the trees above her when she felt a cool hand touch her neck. Meredith blinked so that the fairy lights would go away and looked at Cristina who was apparently measuring her pulse.

"Am… am I… d-dying?" Meredith wondered.

"I… I don't know. You're not looking too good."

"I… I look b-better than… that you do…"

"Not possible," Cristina sighed. "To be honest… I don't think they're ever gonna find us."

At last, Cristina had come to the conclusion… Meredith had been there a long time ago. "I… I don't think there's… anyone left to… to find us. I think… this is the… the world… ending. I just… I always p-pictured… more earthquakes and… and volcanic… eruptions."

Cristina rolled her eyes. "I pictured the sun just randomly exploding one day and all of us dying instantly."

"That… that wouldn't be… so b-bad. At least… at least it'd… be quick," Meredith said.

"True. I wish the sun would explode right now so we could all just die," Cristina agreed.

Meredith looked up at her friend through blurry eyes. She had a feeling that her eyes were never going to be the same, alive or dead. "I w-wish… I had… a scalpel. Then I could… just… cut my carotid… and be d-done."

"Don't say that, Meredith."

"W-Why? You just said… you said they're… n-never gonna… find us and… and I think you're… r-right," Meredith said. "I don't… wanna suffer. Just… just untie the… the tourniquet… on my leg. Let me… b-bleed out."

Cristina shook her head. "No, you're not gonna bleed out, Mer because Lexie needs you. Lexie needs you and Derek needs you and Zola needs you and… and I need you. And when I said that no one was ever gonna find us, that was me showing an ounce of weakness one second of my life. I know people are gonna find us, today probably. And you can't be dead when they find us."

Meredith thought that she knew that but still, slipping away in a pool of her own blood did not seem bad.

Shortly after this, Meredith must have lost consciousness again because the next thing she knew, another hand was nudging her face but this time, it was not Cristina. It was mid-afternoon or early evening and Meredith opened her eyes to see that Derek had sustained enough strength to awaken his wife.

For the first time in days, Meredith's heart leapt hopefully. "H-Hey… hey, you're… awake."

"M-Mer," Derek whispered and Meredith's original prediction that his fever might have broken vanished. If anything, Derek's temperature had increased further; how high did it have to go before it caused permanent brain damage? Meredith knew that she should remember yet all of her medical knowledge had disappeared.

"H-How are… you feeling?"

Derek did not answer directly and instead, just held his wife's hand. "I'm… I'm glad you… m-made it."

"Made it?"

"You made it… here with… with me," Derek whispered. "I'm g-glad… I… I got to meet you… at Joe's and… and… fall… in love… with you. I'm glad… I… I'm g-glad… it happened… even though… we've… we've b-been through… hell and… I'm g-glad… we got a chance… to… to get m-married and… and start a… family…"

It turned out that Meredith's body was capable of producing tears, after all, and they flooded her eyes as she shook her head. "N-No… no, stop. Don't… don't you… dare say… your goodbyes."

"I just… I n-need you… to know… you are… are a great… mother. You're n-nothing… like… your mother and… you're g-gonna… get outta here… you're gonna… go and… raise Zola… right. You're… you're gonna be… an… amazing… surgeon, Mer…"

"I said… I said STOP IT!" Meredith demanded. "They're… they're g-gonna find us… today… I p-promise."

Derek shook his head, and then winced from the pain. "I… I don't… don't p-promise things… you can't… you can't… control. Mer… can you… can you p-please… do something… for me…"

"What?" Meredith asked; she knew better than to agree to anything without hearing it first.

"P-Promise me… you're g-gonna be… okay. That you… you won't do… anything… stupid," Derek requested. "And I… I know you're… you're p-probably gonna… talk to… my… my family so… try to… to trust… them. And… and talk… to them. I… I want you… to tell… my mom that… that she's… amazing and… and strong and… and I'm sorry.

"Tell… my… my sister, Amy… tell her… I'm sorry… we… we didn't… always… see… eye to eye but… but that she's… an amazing… surgeon and… and is g-gonna… do great things… tell her… I love her…"

Meredith interrupted again by shaking her head, ignoring the throbbing pain, ignoring any part of her own suffering. "S-STOP… IT! You're… you're r-right… I shouldn't… p-promise things I can't… control and… I can't control how… how I w-would react to… to you dying. You do not… g-get… to die on me… okay?! R-Remember… you… you dying… it would be the… the w-worst… break-up… ever. YOU DON'T GET… TO DIE, DEREK… I… I LOVE YOU…!"

"HELP!" Mark yelled from the opposite direction. "HELP, SHE'S CRASHING!"

_She's crashing. _Lexie was crashing… it was a Code Blue except that there was no Code Blue alarm to pull.

"There's an AED… get it; get the AED!" Mark demanded.

Meredith was too weak; she could barely sit up so it was Cristina that tore through the wreckage one more time, and emerged from the decaying aircraft with a small, familiar red box.

Mark was performing CPR. "HURRY! MEREDITH, GET THE PADS! CRISTINA, CHARGE TO 250!"

But Meredith could not do it anymore. It was too much. She was broken beyond repair; she could not be the one responsible for her sister's life. So she did not try… she just wailed, sobbed, hyperventilated… Derek had fallen unconscious and Lexie had no pulse. Meredith's wounds were gushing blood due to her increased heart rate but Meredith could not stop… she could not stop…

"MEREDITH!" Mark repeated. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! GET YOURSELF TOGETHER AND HELP US!"

Somehow, Meredith's hands went through the motions… she unwrapped the pads and stuck them to Lexie's bare chest. Cristina had the AED charged and ready and she announced, "Okay, clear!"

Lexie's feeble body jerked upwards. Perhaps they got her back or maybe they did not… Meredith was shaking and screaming and her voice was gone. Her body could not support itself any longer. She collapsed backwards, into the grass, next to her husband who was in all likelihood dead… maybe Lexie was dead, too… maybe everyone was dead… hopefully, Meredith was dying…

It would be a welcome relief. The skies were turning dark again; the daylight hours all having passed in slow-motion. Meredith wanted to die, Meredith needed to die because she could not do it again… she could not listen to the animals of the night and wonder if they were going to be eaten alive…

Most of all, Meredith could not think about Jerry. She could not think about the fact that the pilot who had done his best the entire flight, who had done nothing wrong, was punished by literally getting devoured by wolves.

From somewhere far away, Meredith could hear Cristina calling her name, begging her to stay awake, to stay alive but Meredith blocked out the noise. She blocked out the fact that Arizona was wailing like she had when the plane had originally crashed and that Derek and Lexie were dying…

"D-D-Derek…" Meredith whispered under her breath, her remaining breaths racked with sobs. He was dead; she knew it… the one love of her life was dead…

Soon, Meredith would die, too. She would go to the afterlife or whatever part of it was true. She would see George and Susan and her mother…

_Do you still think I'm extraordinary, Mom?_ Meredith wondered to herself. She had passed her boards after all… but it was Ellis Grey… she would likely find some reason to hate her daughter.

Slowly, Meredith forced her eyes to open once more, desperate to grab one last image of existence… she was really dying and she knew it; there was no going back. Because all of a sudden, it was like relief washed over her. Nothing hurt that badly and Meredith was being whisked away from this life in the woods.

There was a bright, white light shining overhead and Meredith knew that this must be death. She ignored Cristina and Mark's screams and that Derek was gone because Derek was waiting for her… Meredith stared at the white light for a moment longer until the blackness took over and she felt her head roll to the side.

_**That's it. You've survived the actual plane crash. After this, we have rescue and recovery which will not be easy by any means but it will be better than being stranded in the woods. And again, I don't want to spoil it for you guys but come on… no, MerDer did not die. Please, I hope you know me better than to think that I would do that. Xoxo, merderpedia :) **_


	10. Operation Rescue

_**A/N- Finally, the moment has arrived. It's time to get the plane crash victims OUT OF THE WOODS. Enjoy and please don't forget to leave reviews, they make me very happy! **_

Eric, a short yet muscular man with cropped, black hair was first-in-command of the Coast Guard unit that Owen had joined and he was the one that spotted it first: the rear end of the plane. There was half an engine, a wing, and blood on the ground. That was how Owen knew that they had reached their destination. There was no Cristina though… no Cristina or Derek or Meredith… no Mark or Arizona or Lexie… and it was like all of Owen's worst fears were validated.

_They're dead. They're all dead,_ he thought to himself and when the other members of Search and Rescue looked at him, Owen realized that he had said the words aloud.

"Now, come on, Hunt. We don't know that yet," Eric said. "That was only like, a quarter of the plane. The rest of it has to be around here somewhere."

Owen walked across the helicopter to the trap door and swung it open. With Eric's help, he shined the brightest searchlight available down into the forest which was growing darker by the minute. It was like there was nothing but trees.

"I think I see something… another piece of plane wreckage over here," Eric said and Owen looked. Eric was right but there were still no clues except for dried blood… dried blood but no bodies.

Eric looked hopeful though. "Well, you know what that means!"

"That their bodies are dust?" Owen guessed; he always heard that was what happened in plane crashes… pink dust just like in a bomb explosion…

"It means that they were hurt but whoever was bleeding here was alive… at least enough to get up and walk away from the scene," Eric said.

That was true. Owen continued shining the searchlight and he was pretty sure he could see movement. The question was… was it an animal or a person? And if it was a person, was it one of their surgeons? What if this was a totally different plane crash? How common were they?

"Bring me in closer," Owen said and Eric yelled something to the helicopter pilot. Slowly, the chopper began sinking, closer to the trees… on the treeline…

And then Owen saw her.

Cristina Yang was standing directly underneath the searchlight, jumping up and down and screaming for help. Her hair was tangled and matted to her head, there was blood all over her scrubs, but she was there and she was alive.

"CRISTINA!" Owen screamed out of the chopper as loud as he could. He turned around frantically and faced Eric. "WE GOTTA GET DOWN THERE, THAT'S HER! THAT'S MY WIFE!"

"Is there landing space?" Eric asked.

"We'll make some," Owen said and then stuck his head out of the door again. "CRISTINA, IS THERE ROOM TO LAND?!"

"HELP!" Cristina continued to wail like she had not heard him at all. "OWEN, HELP!"

"Drop a ladder," Owen said and Eric did as he was told immediately. "Cristina, can you climb?"

Apparently she could because as soon as the ladder was secured, Cristina nearly threw herself onto it. She was weak and clumsy and almost fell numerous times but she made her way up the ladder and when she was only steps from the top, Owen reached down and grabbed her, lifting Cristina into the chopper.

"Oh my God, you're alive. I can't believe it; you're alive," Owen said and embraced his wife in a huge hug; it did not matter that she was not a hugger.

But Cristina Yang was still in the plane crash. She was screaming and borderline violent, pushing Owen away like he was the plague. "GET OUT! HELP! HELP US!"

"It's okay, you're safe. We have you; you're safe now," Owen promised and then passed Cristina over to the paramedics who began securing her to a rescue board and hooking her up to oxygen. "Is anyone else alive?"

"Lexie… get Lexie now," Cristina gasped and pulled an oxygen mask off of her face.

"Lexie's alive?!"

Cristina shook her head and then nodded. "She's gonna die, she's gonna die, I tried… she's barely… um… hurt bad and I tried… oh, God… he's dead; they were… I tried…"

"Okay, how are we going to do this?" Owen asked, looking at Eric again and trying his absolute hardest not to focus on the words that his wife had just said… someone was dead, a male was dead. That meant that either Derek or Mark was dead… perhaps both of them were dead…

Eric's instructions stopped Owen before he concluded the worst. "We're gonna lower the chopper down, people. Tim, Ricky, Cameron, Emma, Luke, and I… we're all gonna go into the field. We'll secure Lexie to a board, then my pals up front will bring us back up. Everyone else will stay behind and examine the others until we can get back or another team can get here because only two patients can fit in here at a time."

"Okay, and I'll come. I can treat the others in the field, if there's anyone else alive," Owen suggested.

"No, you're staying here with your wife, Hunt. Be ready to use an AED, though," Eric ordered and normally Owen would not take orders from a paramedic but under the current circumstances (and his emotions), he knew it was safer to respect the alpha.

Owen nodded. "Okay, yeah… sounds good. Just get Lexie, we'll rush Lexie in and then come back for… for the others. Is anyone else alive, Cristina?"

"She's hooked up to oxygen, we got oxygen from… from the plane," Cristina answered, and Owen had a feeling that she was still focused on Lexie. "She has… has a collapsed lung and… and cardiac tamponade but we didn't… do good. She has a… her legs are broken and… her arm and… and burns… the… they might've… she was… coding…"

"I get it, okay," Owen said and put both of his hands on Cristina's face to calm and distract her while Eric and the others dropped down out of the helicopter with their information. "Cristina, I need you to breathe for me. I need you to tell me who all is alive and who is hurt so we know who to rescue first. You've been treating everyone, haven't you?"

Cristina nodded but then she burst out crying and sobbed into Owen's shoulder for several minutes before she was able to talk. "L-Lexie's gonna die… she's gonna die and… her infection… Derek's gonna die… he might be dead; I think he's dead… I don't know… he was bleeding out. Arizona's femur is broken, she's gonna lose it… he's dead…"

It was the furthest they were going to get at the moment. Owen helped Cristina gently back onto her rescue board and secured a more simple tube under her nose to provide oxygen. Overall, it did not look like Cristina herself was injured severely but she did have a makeshift sling around her left arm and shoulder.

"Are you okay? Did you hurt your arm?" Owen asked, stroking his wife's dirty hair.

"M-M-My… shoulder is… is dislocated but… but we… popped it back in and… my… my collarbone is… is broken," Cristina sobbed.

"Okay," Owen said. He could have done more himself, of course, but the paramedics knew how to handle a dislocated shoulder and broken collarbone. Owen stayed next to her as one of the other team members discarded the soiled scrub material and wrapped Cristina's arm with bandages.

It could have been worse. Owen was aware of that. There was a chance that all five of the other surgeons were dead or dying but it could have been worse because Cristina was alive and relatively unhurt. A fractured collarbone and a dislocated shoulder could and would be mended and as long as she survived the psychological damage, she would be fine.

Just then, one of the other paramedics, Jimmy according to his nametag, looked at Owen. "They're coming back up with the Lexie girl. I'm going to sedate if that's okay with you."

"Yeah, that's fine," Owen said but he continued to hold Cristina's hand and speak softly with her until the drugs kicked in and she faded away into unconsciousness. She looked so much more peaceful; Owen had an odd sense that Cristina had probably not slept the entire time they had been out in the forest.

Then quickly, while Eric and Tim were being lifted back into the chopper with Lexie, Owen took the opportunity to speak into the bluetooth headset that he was using to communicate with Webber in Seattle: "We've found the wreckage; we're on site. There's at least one confirmed fatality and one confirmed survivor. I have Cristina next to me, talking."

But Owen did not stick around to listen for Webber's reply. The paramedics were back and with them, secured to a rescue board, was a broken Lexie Grey.

Owen had seen a lot of broken people throughout his years as a surgeon- both in Iraq and in America but this was still a shock to the system. Lexie's skin was pale white, she was covered in lacerations and blood, and three of her four limbs were sticking out at odd angles because of her fractures. Lexie's teeth were red which suggested that she had been vomiting blood and her scrub pants were soiled with urine and feces. Most hauntingly, there was a huge chunk missing from Lexie's scalp and it looked like she had been attacked by a wild animal.

"We've got to get her to the nearest hospital right away," Eric said as the helicopter rose back into the sky. "We're gonna fly everyone to Boise, okay? It's much closer than Seattle and once they're stabilized, we can talk about transferring them."

"Yeah, okay," Owen agreed; he knew that Lexie did not have time for anything else. "Is there someone else coming for the others… Arizona and Derek, if he's still alive?"

"I'm paging the other units now. I think most of them are closer to Seattle so we'll fly back after this and see if they need us," Eric said. "I've got the location mapped in our GPS now."

The entire way to Boise, Owen alternated between Cristina and Lexie. He technically was not allowed to treat the former because of his relationship to her but there was only one doctor aboard. Owen checked his wife's vitals constantly; they were not completely stable- her blood pressure was high at 148/92 and her temperature sat at 102.8 degrees.

Lexie was worse off though, so Owen tried to spend most of his time with her. She was so fragile and if Owen did not know better, he would have thought that she was dead. But Little Grey was a fighter- her heart was hanging in there with a pace of 72/35 and it would hopefully go up soon. Lexie was being pumped full of oxygen and fluids. She would, without a doubt, need emergency surgery.

They were halfway to Boise when Lexie's pulse bottomed out and her heart rate monitor began flashing as she coded.

"NO, DON'T YOU DARE!" Owen yelled and he began performing CPR while at the same time, shouting instructions at the paramedics. "GET THE PADDLES READY! CHARGE TO 250!"

"Charged and ready," Jimmy assured him.

"Okay, CLEAR!"

Lexie's body jerked limply upward as her heart was zapped and Owen stared at the monitor. "Any change?"

"Nothing, still in v-fib!"

Owen cursed. "Okay, charge to 300! CLEAR!"

Lexie's heart was electrocuted for a second time and the monitor's beeping slowed.

"We've got her back. Pulse is weak but it's there," Jimmy confirmed.

Owen sighed with relief and tried to pressure the helicopter to move faster with his mind; they had literally gotten to Lexie at the last available moment and she did not have long without proper medical treatment.

As soon as the chopper landed on the roof of Boise Memorial, Owen swung open the door and helped roll Lexie out on her gurney. There were doctors waiting and Owen tried not to think about the fact that Boise needed help operating on conjoined twins in the first place. Hopefully, their general surgeons were of better caliber.

"Alexandra Grey, 28-year-old female, unconscious and unstable!" Owen reported to the Boise staff. He was glad to see Dr. Sheehan in front; she was their chief of surgery. "Blunt trauma to the lower half, crushed tibias, pelvic fracture, multiple burns, and damage to the left arm and chest! Get her to CT right away, you hear me?!"

"Yes, Dr. Hunt," Dr. Sheehan said. "Was she conscious when you found her?"

"No, she hasn't been awake in almost a day apparently and she crashed on the way here but we got her back. Pulse is 46 and dropping," Owen said and that was enough; Dr. Sheehan took hold of the gurney and rushed Lexie inside.

Another surgeon, Dr. Wong according to his nametag, was right behind. "Anyone else?"

"We've got one more here and then we're going back to see," Owen said as Cristina was unloaded from the helicopter. "Cristina Yang, 33-year-old female, sedated in route due to agitation and paranoia. Her only traumas are to the left collarbone and shoulder but she's extremely dehydrated and exhausted; be prepared for an extreme psychiatric response. Pulse is high but stable."

"Don't worry; we've got her from here, Dr. Hunt. I know she's your wife; we'll take good care of her," Dr. Wong said and then pushed Cristina inside the hospital.

Owen wanted to follow them; he wished that he could hold Cristina's hand in the emergency room but there was not time for that. There was a good chance that someone else, maybe Arizona, was still alive so he turned around and jumped back into the chopper which promptly took off again.

This time, there was no trouble finding the crash site and sure enough, none of the other rescue teams had arrived yet. As Eric headed back down to the scene, Owen paged them again and cancelled his earlier request. If Derek or Arizona were still alive, then they could fit into this helicopter and there was no need to call other medical staff away from patients that were breathing.

Eric and Tim were only gone for a matter of minutes but every second was torture for Owen; he was seriously contemplating leaping out of the chopper himself. He was a trauma surgeon; he wanted to be the first-responder, the one that ran around and determined what could be done to save his people.

Suddenly, before Owen could see anything, there was a shrill screaming and crying from below. Owen ran over to the door of the helicopter just as Eric made his way back inside, stabilizing Arizona Robbins as he moved. She was dirty and covered with blood and vomit as well but she was alert- or alert enough to scream anyway.

"Arizona, you're okay. We've got you now, okay? You're going to the hospital," Owen said.

Cristina had been right about the leg- Arizona's left femur was open, exposed, and bleeding badly but that was not the worst part. The worst part was the fact that dozens of bugs were feasting on Arizona's leg; huge chunks of tissue had been eaten out of it. With the paramedics' help, Owen got his pediatric surgeon set-up on oxygen and fluids and then pumped some pain medication into her as well.

There was no use asking questions about her injuries or the others- Arizona could not focus on anything except for her pain so once Owen took her vitals, he gave the word for sedation. Her temperature was high at 103.9 but her blood pressure was stable enough at 156/98 and there was no point in letting her suffer.

Despite Arizona's condition, there was room for one more patient and according to some of the other Coast Guard soldiers below, they had been able to find an unsteady pulse on the carotid of Derek Shepherd. Arizona was sedated anyway so they took a few extra minutes to load Derek into the chopper.

The latter was unconscious, white as a sheet, and drenched in cold sweat. There was so much blood that Derek's scrubs appeared red instead of blue. Owen's first thought was that his Chief of Neurosurgery had to be deceased; no one could survive this, not for four days…

"Derek? Derek, we've got you," Owen said and went to hold his friend's hand but instead, found a mess of mangled skin and blood with bone sticking out. Someone, likely Cristina, had clearly tried to mend his injury without much success.

As Owen was taking his vitals, Derek shifted slightly and for a moment, Owen prayed that he was regaining consciousness. If Derek was awake, though, all he managed to do before passing out again was cough and blood spilled out of his mouth.

"You're going to be fine," Owen repeated because he had a feeling that Derek could hear him, somehow. "Just hang in there, we're getting you to the hospital."

But there was so much blood. Not only was Derek's hand a mess but there was an open head wound that had been dressed in dirty scrub material. How had Derek not bled to death already?

"Keep pressure on that hand," Owen told Eric. He did as he was told and in the process, inserted several needles into Derek's arms to provide him with fluids and antibiotics. A clear oxygen mask was placed over his face.

Halfway to the hospital this time, it was the heart rate monitor that was attached to Derek's chest that started beeping in alarm. His vitals were terrible in every direction. Derek's temperature was raging at 105.5 degrees; he was in serious danger of crashing from that alone but his blood pressure was sky high at 184/122. He had a pulse of 130.

Luckily, there were more surgeons waiting on the roof of Boise when the chopper landed and Owen recognized one of them as an old colleague named Dr. Olsen. He knew that he could be trusted with anything so unloaded Derek who was currently on the verge of respiratory distress.

"Derek Shepherd, 45-year-old male, trauma to the head, left hand and abdomen. Pulse is 130, BP 184/122, and a temperature of over 105. Straight to CT, understand?" Owen said.

"Understood," Dr. Olsen agreed; he knew Derek, too and would doubtlessly take care of him.

Arizona was right behind on her gurney and another female doctor that looked similar to Cristina in some ways was here and ready; her name tag read Dr. Lee.

"Arizona Robbins, 39-year old female, open fracture of the left femur and a lot of infection, dehydration, and shock. Do what you can to save the leg but save her life first," Owen told Dr. Lee who nodded and took over.

The third and last trip back to the crash was significantly more somber. Owen had not received an official word on Meredith but Cristina had told him that a male was dead and Derek had been alive; that could only mean one thing when it came to Mark. Plus, if Meredith or Mark had been salvageable, Eric admitted that one of the other Coast Guard soldiers would have likely notified him from the scene. They would not have allowed Owen to cancel his request for additional help. And Cristina had been unable to speak about her best friend.

Still, Owen wanted to be there when they retrieved the bodies of his surgeons. He wanted to personally see each and every one of them come out of the forest with his own eyes so he could accurately report back to Webber.

"Is there a preference on who we bring up first?" Eric asked when the chopper arrived.

Owen started to shake his head but then he stopped. He felt a certain obligation to Cristina, who had been left to treat all of her friends alone, who had possibly watched her best friend die. Owen changed his mind and nodded. "Er… yes, get the girl. Get Meredith."

It was quiet below with no frantic movement to be heard but when the paramedics pushed the board with Meredith's body strapped onto it into the helicopter, Owen realized that her chest was rising and falling, ever so slightly.

"She's alive!" Eric said, the shock clear in his tone. "She's unconscious, and has an irregular heartbeat but she's hanging in there."

Some of the ultimate terror rushed out of Owen's chest. Meredith Grey was pale, emaciated, her skin and scrubs drenched in a mixture of blood and vomit, but she was alive. Owen quickly hooked her up to the proper machines, providing her with fluids and oxygen because she was barely breathing. Thick, red blood was running down the side of her head even though the wound itself had to be several days old.

"Meredith?" Owen whispered and held her hand as her vitals were taken. "Meredith, don't worry; we've got you. We're taking you back to the hospital. You're going to be fine; do you understand?"

Meredith did not respond but that was okay. She was going to get stabilized; Owen would make sure of it. He took her temperature- it was high, just like everyone's, 103.6 and her blood pressure sat at 157/99, her pulse rocketing up and down.

Owen was beginning to run some antibiotics when the last of the paramedics jumped into the helicopter, loading Mark's body onto the other gurney. Owen tried not to look at him, there was no point in watching a corpse when Meredith's life could still be saved, but all of a sudden, a familiar voice was speaking in a weak tone.

"Rambo… it's… it's about time you… showed up."

"Mark," Owen said and pushed his way through to the other side of the chopper. "Oh, God, you're… alive."

"I mean… I think so or else… or else we're all… dead," Mark sighed.

"Yeah… yeah, don't worry, okay? We've got you all; you're all alive and we're taking you to Boise Memorial right now. How are you feeling?" Owen asked.

Mark blinked a few times; it was probably a method of shrugging. "I… I don't know, I… I've been better but… Lexie… where's Lexie?"

"Lexie's already at the hospital. She was hurt worst so we took her first but don't worry, she's alive. Everyone is alive," Owen promised. "Now try to relax; we need to take your vitals and get you hydrated, okay?"

"A little air… would be nice, too," Mark requested so Owen put the last oxygen mask on his face. He wondered what Cristina meant when she said that someone was dead.

That did not matter now. All that mattered was that the surgeons were alive; they were all alive, somehow. Mark had a fever (103.8) and his heart was going too fast (152/105) but he was going to be fine, in all likelihood.

For the last time, the helicopter landed on the roof of Boise and Dr. Perry was waiting with a surprised look on his face. "More survivors?"

"These are the last two," Owen said and pushed Meredith's gurney in his direction. "Meredith Grey, 34-year-old female, trauma to the head, abdomen, and left thigh… severe dehydration and infection; she was unconscious on the scene with an irregular heartbeat and respiratory distress."

"Ellis Grey's little girl," Dr. Perry realized and Owen nodded. Meredith was promptly rushed inside; several other residents joined Dr. Perry as well.

In the end, there was only one doctor left and that was Dr. Smyth who appeared just as shocked to see that all six surgeons had made it- or made it out of the woods.

"Mark Sloan, 44-year-old male with hypertension, infection, and trauma to the right ankle. Extensive burns on the right side of abdomen and hip, at least two fractured ribs," Owen reported as he let go of the gurney. "I want a CT done right away, just in case."

"You got it, Dr. Hunt," Dr. Smyth said and pushed Mark inside.

Slowly, Owen followed her. He was not sure how he had done it- or more, how they had done it and managed to survive out there for four days. Living after a plane crash was uncommon in itself. They were here though and now it was time to save their lives. Now it was time to spread the news.

Owen dialed Webber's number and the former chief answered after one ring. "Is it Cristina? Is she the only one alive?"

"No," Owen said and then he could not help it; he started sobbing with relief. "They're all alive… they're all alive and at Boise. I don't know if they'll make it much longer, their injuries and infections are extensive, especially Lexie and Derek but… but they're hanging in there. They made it here. I can… I can give you a rundown."

_**HALLELUJAH. They are finally out of the woods! This is not even close to the end of the story though. (Basically it's just the end of the beginning lol) Now the road to recovery starts, physically and mentally. Hope you enjoyed the positive turn of events… everything will not be perfect from here on out but it should never be as depressing as it was before! Thank you SO much to everyone for reading and reviewing; it literally means so much to me. Love you all… stay tuned for chapter 11 coming soon! Xoxo, merderpedia :) **_


	11. Out of the Woods

"Ms. Grey? Ms. Grey, can you hear me?"

Those were the first words that crept into Meredith's brain. The last thing she remembered, she had been in a plane crash and… she was in a plane crash! She was dying; she had seen the white light. And now someone unfamiliar was calling her name…

Meredith tried her hardest to sit up. She could barely move. She was in a hospital but it was not Seattle Grace. She was in the emergency room but none of her colleagues were congregating in their usual positions. A woman dressed in aqua-colored scrubs was shining a light into her eyes and held a thermometer in her other hand.

_Who are you? Where am I?_ Meredith attempted to ask but her voice was gone and it felt like something was caught in her throat. She coughed loudly and then moaned; her abdomen hurt and then Meredith tried to get out of bed because she was supposed to be the doctor, not the patient…

"Shh, you're alright, sweetie. I need you to try and stay calm," the woman in aqua said. "My name is Dr. Vance. You were in a plane crash but don't worry; we're all going to take really good care of you, okay?"

Meredith realized for the first time that there was an oxygen tube stuck in her nose and several other machines connected to her chest and arms. Her hydration levels were being replenished with fluids and a heart monitor was letting everyone know that she was still alive. That is when Meredith came to the conclusion that they must have been rescued. Owen must have eventually located the crash site. They had been saved.

But how much time had gone by since Meredith had seen the white light and passed out? Why was she still alive? She was supposed to be dead. Derek was dead… _Derek…_

Reliving the way that Derek had left this earth was too much. It was all too much. Meredith began hyperventilating again, and sobbing silently and she knew that Dr. Vance was speaking to her from far away but Meredith was blocking out the world because she did not want to live in a world without Derek Shepherd…

"Dr. Grey," a new voice, a male voice said and Meredith floated back just long enough to see a tall African American man approaching her gurney. Meredith's vision was blurry; she thought that it might be Richard Webber.

"R-R-Richard…?" Meredith managed to whisper in an unrecognizable tone.

"No, my name is Dr. Perry and I'm the attending on your case," the man smiled. "It's an honor to meet you, Dr. Grey, although I wish it could be under better circumstances."

Suddenly feeling shy, Meredith pulled the thin blanket she had been given up to her chin. Why was it an honor for Dr. Perry to meet her? Because she was Ellis Grey's daughter? Meredith was only a resident and she was not even sure if she was a doctor, at this point. Everything was complex, confusing, and the world she had known for 34 years had forever shifted gears.

"There, there. It's alright," Dr. Perry continued and he might have stroked Meredith's hair. If he did, she could not sense it. "Dr. Grey, I cannot begin to imagine how you must be feeling right now. I know you have gone through more trauma in the last few days than most people endure in their lifetime. But we are trying to help you and we need you to answer a few questions for us. Do you think you can do that?"

Meredith knew the drill; she had completed similar intakes hundreds of times back at Seattle Grace. This felt different though. Meredith was not sure if she could talk and she was so terrified… of this hospital, of Dr. Vance and Dr. Perry, of life… she simply stared at the duo.

Dr. Perry sighed and looked at Dr. Vance. "We're going to need to get her up to CT as soon as possible. Has she spoken at all, said anything that suggests she knows her own name?"

"Nothing, sir," Dr. Vance replied. "When you were walking over, she said one word… _Richard… _like maybe she thought you were someone named Richard? But I'm also not sure if she can talk; her voice was gone."

Now, these doctors were getting somewhere. Perry nodded and returned his gaze to Meredith. "Dr. Grey, are you able to speak for me?"

Meredith shook her head, shortly.

"Alright, that's alright. That's perfectly fine," Perry soothed. "Just nod your head for yes or shake your head for no; do you think you can do that?"

It still hurt a lot; previously, Meredith's head had been bleeding but she thought she could move it a few times. She nodded.

"Perfect. You're doing great," Perry said. "Okay, first things first… do you know where you are, Dr. Grey?"

Meredith shook her head.

"You're at Boise Memorial Hospital. You were originally coming here to perform a surgery on a set of conjoined twins but your plane crashed. It… it appears that you've been stranded in the woods for several days. Does any of that sound familiar?" Dr. Vance asked.

_Oh, yes… _all of that sounded familiar. Meredith could recall sticking a knife into her sister's chest… finding Derek in a pool of his own blood… picking the bugs out of Arizona's leg… Derek giving up hope… Meredith nodded but she felt a few tears leak out of her eyes in the process.

Dr. Vance reached out and took Meredith's hand; the latter involuntarily flinched. Dr. Vance sighed. "It's okay, Dr. Grey. We're right here with you. You're safe now."

But Meredith was not safe. Derek was gone. Lexie was gone… where was Cristina? Cristina had to still be alive… Meredith was never going to be safe again…

"Dr. Grey?" Perry repeated softly. "Dr. Grey, I'm sorry to press you for so many details so soon but can you tell me if you are allergic to any medications?"

Meredith shook her head… her head hurt… _Lexie was allergic to medications. Lexie was allergic to almost all opioids… but what if Lexie was dead? _

"Very good, no known drug allergies. What about surgical history? And I don't mean the patients that you have operated on. Have you personally ever been the patient on the operating table?" Dr. Perry said.

It was peculiar; Meredith knew she had undergone operations and she tried to think of the names of the surgeries but everything was a blur. She just nodded.

"And do you think you could remember the names of those surgeries? Any clue could be helpful."

Perry clearly knew that Meredith was unable to talk; she was not sure why he was still asking her for explanations but she tried to rack her brains… she had been throwing-up during morning rounds. Derek and Finn were both attempting to care for her._ Derek… Derek… Derek…_

"I…" Meredith cleared her throat and discovered that she was able to talk if she whispered. "I had… um… my… m-my appendix out… in um… in… 2009… I think."

"Okay, great. You're doing wonderfully," Perry said. "Anything else?"

Lexie had not been a match. She was crying, begging for her father. Meredith had only done it for Lexie…_ Lexie… Lexie_. "I… I gave um… a piece of… m-my… my liver to… my dad. That was… um… in… in 2011."

"Well, you are a very brave young woman but that was already established," Dr. Vance said. "You must love your dad a lot, huh?"

"Um, I… yeah," Meredith said. She had promised herself that she was going to treat Thatcher better, for Lexie. Still, it would be an exaggeration to say that she loved him but that did not need to be mentioned.

"Well, I'm sure your father is around here somewhere, desperate to see you, too. We'll see if we can get him in here to visit as soon as possible," Perry said. "Any other existing medical conditions I should know about?"

Meredith was feeling afraid again, like something was about to jump out of the drooping curtains and grab her. Neither Perry nor Vance seemed threatening but what if there were other people here? What if there were wolves?

Nervously, Meredith shrugged although it showed itself as more of a twitch. "I… I had a… miscarriage. It… it was… like… two years… ago."

"Oh, I'm very sorry to hear about that," Perry said and it was an awkward moment. "But on the bright side, you seem to be waking up a little. We're going to take you up for a CT scan to make sure you don't have any other internal injuries that we don't know about."

"W-W-Wait!" Meredith begged and she was surprised that the doctors heard her, given the strength of her voice but Perry stopped unlocking the gurney for transport and knelt down in front of Meredith.

"What is it, Dr. Grey? Are you feeling alright?"

Meredith's heart was racing. "M-My… my husband… and… m-my sister… I've… I've got to get… w-where's my sister and… and m-my husband?!"

"Well, I do know that all six of the plane crash victims were alive when they were initially found, although a few of them were critically injured and unconscious," Perry explained and then he nodded towards Dr. Vance. "I can take over from here, Taylor; I'll take her to CT. Why don't you go check on the other plane crash victims so that Dr. Grey can be updated?"

The resident must have agreed because Meredith did not see anymore of Dr. Vance. Instead, it was just Perry who wheeled her up to the second floor and prepped her for the routine scan. Meredith had taken patients to CT hundreds of times as well and she had even been the patient for CT scans before but that was all at Seattle Grace, before the plane crash, before running through the darkness and listening to the wolves howl… before watching Lexie give up and driving a rock into Derek's hand…

So again, Meredith felt an abrupt onslaught of anxiety upon entering the CT room. It made sense, of course, after all that she had been through but Meredith's brain was foggy and she was unsure why she was feeling so panicked which made her paranoia even worse. The CT techs had just lifted Meredith from her gurney onto the CT bed itself when she heard someone hyperventilating and then it took her another ten seconds to realize that that person was herself.

There were quick footsteps nearby; Dr. Perry was kneeling beside Meredith. "Dr. Grey, Dr. Grey… calm down, you're alright. You know that getting upset is just going to interfere with the scan results."

But Meredith did not know anything and if she did, her neurological function was not working well enough for her to obey. She just kept gasping for air and looking around frantically because she had to check on everyone to make sure they were still alive. She had to make sure that the wolves were not coming back!

"Meredith," Dr. Perry repeated and Meredith felt someone touch her bare shoulder; she flinched away. "I'm sorry, I did not mean to startle you. And trust me, I cannot imagine what you are going through at the moment but we are all here to help you in any way we can."

"M-My husband… where's… where's D-Derek and… and Lexie… where's Cristina?!" Meredith gasped.

"Dr. Vance is checking on all your loved ones right now and she will be back with the results shortly. For right now, though, we have to get this scan done to be sure that you are not bleeding internally," Dr. Perry explained. "Would you like something to help you calm down?"

Meredith guessed that she had agreed to be drugged because her vision and memory entirely blacked out after this point. When she came to, she was back on her stretcher being rolled into the ICU. Along the way, Meredith tried to listen to the subtle chatter of the nurses in the hallway; maybe one of them had something to say about Derek or Lexie but even if they were being loud enough, Meredith's senses were not at their prime so she remained out of touch and eventually dozed out again.

The next thing she knew, Meredith was awakening in a traditional hospital bed, her mouth feeling dry and her head, groggy. She moaned and looked around; the redheaded doctor from the emergency department was sitting in a chair nearby.

"Good morning, Meredith," Dr. Vance smiled when she saw that her patient was awake. "Well, good night, really; it's still pretty late but you took a nap there for a while. How are you feeling?"

Meredith did not answer the question; she just felt around on her own body. There were still multiple IV's in her arm, providing her with much-needed fluids and antibiotics. Meredith had a new breathing tube under her nose, too and some kind of bulky bandage wrapped around her head.

When she finally did manage to speak in her hoarse whisper, all Meredith cared about was one thing. "M-My family… and… and my… friends. Are they… okay? Are they… are they all… alive?"

"Do you want to know about everyone that was on the plane with you or just your husband and your sister?" Dr. Vance asked.

"Everyone…"

Dr. Vance nodded and took a deep breath. "Okay, well… your friend, Mark Sloan was the healthiest of the group. Our biggest concern was his third degree burns; we're monitoring him closely but thus far, we are confident that a few of his famous skin grafts should do the trick. He is also extremely dehydrated, exhausted, and has two fractured ribs and a fractured right ankle. He's resting in a room a few doors down receiving some blood and antibiotics and should be fine in a few days."

"That's g-good," Meredith said and she meant it. She was glad that Mark was okay.

"Yes, and then… your other friend it looks like, Arizona… is injured pretty severely. She has an open fracture to the left femur and a lot of infection. There's a possibility she might lose her leg. We expect her to make a full recovery though," Dr. Vance said and Meredith nodded.

"Then… onto your friend, Cristina Yang…" Dr. Vance continued and Meredith looked up. "Cristina is in a lot of shock. She was acting violent upon arrival at the hospital and unfortunately, we had to place her in four-point restraints. It appears that she has been awake and dehydrated for a very long time and then she has a broken collarbone and dislocated shoulder so that did not help. She does not appear to be injured severely, at least not physically… she has a grade one concussion and will make a full recovery. We've already set her collarbone properly. There's just a chance that she may have to be transferred to psych."

Meredith nodded again. "Yeah, she already... had PTSD from the… the shooting... that happened at… at our hospital um… a couple… years ago."

"I will make her doctor aware of that," Dr. Vance said and made a note.

Eternity seemed to go by as she wrote that note. Meredith wondered why she did not feel more relieved. Three other plane crash victims were almost guaranteed to survive. It was more than she would have thought 24 hours ago or even six hours ago. But then Meredith knew- this entire time, she had a good feeling that Cristina, Mark, and Arizona were alive. It was Derek and Lexie that were in critical condition.

"M-My husband and… and… m-my… sister!" Meredith pleaded when she could wait no longer.

"Your sister, Alexandra, is in critical condition, as I'm sure you were aware. Thankfully, she was the first to arrive at the hospital and we rushed her right to CT. She has been diagnosed with a variety of injuries including a grade two concussion, a nasal fracture, four fractured ribs, and a pneumothorax in her left lung. She also has the two broken tibias, a fractured pelvis… some bleeding in the left lung and around her pericardial sac… and then third degree burns on her left arm which was fractured in two places."

Meredith was feeling incredibly dizzy and she was not sure if it was on account of her injuries or the news about Lexie. "And… and she's r-really… still alive?"

"She is, mostly because of you surgeons," Dr. Vance said. "The pneumothorax would have killed her for sure if you hadn't thought to use the oxygen found on the aircraft and it looks like you helped with her hydration levels, too. That being said, I still cannot say whether or not Alexandra will survive. She's unconscious and having trouble breathing on her own. The doctors are rushing her to surgery as we speak."

The brief hope that had risen in Meredith's chest telling her that she might get to see Lexie disappeared as soon as it had come. She took a steadying breath. "Okay… um… well… you need to… to know… Lexie, she… Lexie has… allergies. She, er… she's allergic to… um… opioids… and… and amoxicillin… um… eggs… there's more… I think… "

"That's alright; we can get the rest from her emergency contact but thank you for letting me know," Dr. Vance said. "You do not happen to know which opioids Alexandra is allergic to off-hand, do you?"

"I… I think… almost… almost all of… them," Meredith said; Dr. Vance continued writing. "And… and… D-Derek?"

"Your husband, Derek was our other big concern. Our first priority was getting his fever under control; he was ranging at 105 degrees upon arrival but he is gradually improving. We're getting ready to take him to surgery for his hand because the bleeding is causing a lot of stress on his body."

"Okay but… but… he's stable? Does he have any… any other… injuries?" Meredith asked.

"He does," Dr. Vance frowned. "The major focus is still getting his vitals under control; his blood pressure and pulse are running extremely high. There are also two minor lacerations on the liver and the left lung which is causing some bleeding and problems with fluid. We're watching both of those closely and if necessary, we'll go in and fix them surgically but… at this time…"

Dr. Vance trailed off so Meredith finished for her. "At this time… you're… hoping to… avoid… major um… major surgery… cause… b-because of… his high… BP."

"Yes, that is what we are hoping," Dr. Vance admitted.

"He had… cardio… heart surgery… two years ago," Meredith said. "He was… shot in the… in the shooting… shot in the… chest… had um… I… I forgot… the name… oh, God, what… what was it called…"

Meredith was freaking-out; it was not like her to not be able to remember something this important. She knew the names of surgeries. At the very least, she knew the anatomy of the human heart… why could she not think of the operation that Cristina had completed with a gun to her head?

"It's alright, Dr. Grey," Dr. Vance interrupted and smiled weakly. "We'll be able to look all that up in your husband's medical history. Thank you for letting me know about the GSW though."

"Y-Yeah," Meredith said. "So um… um… a-any other… injuries? I… wanna know."

"Nothing else major. Your husband has a grade two concussion, like most of you, but there's no bleeding in the brain. We did a CT and confirmed that. And then there's a few fractured ribs but those will clear up in their own time, as you know," Dr. Vance said.

Meredith tried to breathe… Derek was alive. Derek was strong and as long as he had adequate surgeons and no complications, Derek was possibly going to live. She could not feel truly relieved though, not when Derek's vitals were too erratic for surgery… not when Derek could potentially stroke out at any moment. Plus, Meredith was a general surgeon and she knew that any number of issues could still arise when Derek was bleeding internally, even if the lacerations were small.

_And he's in critical condition, _Meredith thought to herself. _Maybe this is it… maybe he's going to make it all the way back to the hospital and then die because they can't get his pulse down. Maybe the world-famous neurosurgeon is going to die of a stroke and… _

"Dr. Grey, are you alright?" Dr. Vance's question interjected Meredith's newest panic attack and Meredith tried to scream but she did not have the energy or the vocal ability. It was such a stupid question though… _are you alright?_ Of course Meredith was not alright.

"Just… just… keep me… updated," Meredith begged.

"I will keep you updated; I promise," Dr. Vance said. "Before I leave though, is there anything else you need? How are you feeling at the moment?"

That was a good question. Meredith was a doctor and she knew that Dr. Vance deserved an answer but she was not sure how she felt. Her brain was still swollen, without a doubt, and Meredith was bewildered, exhausted, and in shock. "I… I don't… know. I'm just… I'm… tired."

"I'm sure you are; it's only been about three hours since you were in the forest. It's only midnight. Feel free to get some rest, Dr. Grey. I'll come back as soon as I can with your scan results."

Meredith did not want to sleep. She wanted to talk with Derek and Cristina. She wanted to see her other friends back at Seattle Grace and learn what all she had missed. She was not even sure of the exact date… but Meredith had been fighting sleep for far too long.

As soon as Dr. Vance walked out of her room, Meredith lay her head back down on the pillow and allowed herself to drift off. Her last thought was that she was hungry but it probably was not a good idea to eat… she might need surgery.

**MTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTB**

Trauma was draining. Meredith had concluded this long ago, but the statement never lost its truth. Meredith was drained and it felt like only minutes after she had fallen asleep that a familiar voice was calling her name.

"I'm… sleeping," Meredith groaned but she opened her eyes and saw Dr. Perry in front of her, holding a folder that was labeled with her name. It was her chart.

"I'm sorry to wake you but from what I understand, while Dr. Vance gave you updates on all your loved ones, you still were not exactly aware of your own injuries. I wanted to talk about those with you," Dr. Perry said.

"Okay," Meredith yawned and she tried to sit up better but she was still unquestionably weak and her body was not prepared for that yet. She slumped back against the pillows.

Dr. Perry sat down next to her. "The most serious problem when it comes to your wounds, Meredith, is the loss of blood so we're going to need to do a blood transfusion. Have you had one before?"

"No but… but I've g-given blood… lots of times. I don't… have a p-problem with it," Meredith said.

"Good, good," Dr. Perry replied. He made a note in the chart. "There was a slight laceration to your spleen. As of right now, we do not anticipate that you will require surgery but we'll continue monitoring you closely these next few days. Like most of the others, you did acquire a concussion, grade two in your case. We've already disinfected your leg and wrapped it; we did that when you first got here. You will need stitches on your head but we want to wait until you're a bit more stable for that; your pulse was extremely high upon admission. For right now, you'll just have to rock the bandage."

Meredith reached up and touched her head- it was true, there was a thick surgical bandage protecting her skull. Nothing hurt that badly though which was a surprise. In the forest, from what Meredith could recall, she had been in constant, everlasting pain.

Dr. Perry looked at Meredith, thoughtfully. "You are remarkably lucky, Dr. Grey. Is there anything I can get for you? I know you have to be going through a lot emotionally. If you want, I could fetch someone from psych for you to talk with…"

"Um… um, that's okay… I have my… my own therapist… back in… in Seattle," Meredith said. "I really just… I want to see… m-my husband if… if that's okay… or, or someone… from home."

"I know you do," Dr. Perry said. "And I've gotten word that a whole group of people from Seattle are on their way over now, by bus. You'll see them soon. We had to take your husband to surgery though so you'll have to wait a while for that."

There was no point in arguing. Meredith had argued with patients plenty of times about this same subject. It never made a difference because it was not like Meredith could burst into the OR while Derek was on the table.

For now, she tried to do as she was told and relax. Meredith looked up at the television which was portraying a Seattle Mariners baseball game. She did not care enough to watch or change the channel. All Meredith wanted to do was see someone she knew because until she did, she could not be 100 percent sure that Dr. Vance was telling the truth. She could not be 100 percent sure that she was not the only one left.

Meredith always felt at home in a hospital. She had practically grown-up in one, after all… but now she was alone without the native employees in the hallway and no one to page for assistance. Meredith's phone had been destroyed in the plane crash so it was not like she could call Callie or Alex. She wondered how Zola was doing. She wondered if Derek was feeling better, if they had managed to get his blood pressure down…

She took a deep, shaky breath, the pain from her fractured ribs temporarily dulled. Meredith was not feeling as hungry as earlier but she was so thirsty. It did not sound like she was going to need surgery and she had fluids going in; after all that time in the woods, though, this did not seem like enough. When a random nurse walked by Meredith's open door, Meredith waved her hand a bit and caught the nurse's attention because she had forgotten where Dr. Vance had said her call button was located.

"Yes, Dr. Grey?"

"W-Water… p-please… is there water?" Meredith requested.

"Of course there is, honey. Here, I'll pour you a fresh cup," the nurse said and with her assistance, Meredith leaned forward and let the sensation of liquids wash down her throat for the first time in almost 72 hours. She drank swallow after swallow and when that was gone, she asked for more.

The nurse hesitated. "Well, I don't want you to get too overwhelmed; I know it's been a while since you had anything in your stomach. Let's wait a little bit and see how your body reacts."

Meredith was upset but she accepted the nurse's decision. She was so tired and she needed to get some rest. Curling down into the covers of her bed, Meredith repeated the same words in her mind: _You're indoors. It's not raining. You will eventually see Zola again. _That was enough for now. Meredith closed her eyes and welcomed the opportunity to go back to sleep.

But as soon as the blackness was there, so were the wolves… so was Jerry, his body being dragged away and so was blood, bursting out of Lexie's feeble chest. Meredith's eyes flew open; she was not sleeping. She could not sleep now or anytime soon… not until she was truly out of the woods.

In the meantime, she stopped the same nurse in the hallway approximately ten more times, and on each occasion, Meredith begged for water like she had not seen it in decades.

_**Author's Note- Okay, here we are at the end of Chapter 11! Thank you so much for all of the continued support. In case you missed the previous chapter (first of all, go read it!), the surgeons have been rescued! Now they are are Boise Memorial Hospital, on the road to recovery. Now that they are out of the woods, I am confident that this story will begin to take on more of an actual plot. I know that before, it was pretty much continued angst and suffering and I'm REALLY sorry about that, but I also felt like it was necessary to go into detail about everything that happened in the plane crash.**_

_**That being said, this is in NO way the end of this story. I am planning on continuing it all the way through what would be the Season 9 finale of GA. Yes, this might mean that we end up with like 75 chapters lol… hopefully that is okay with you guys. **_

_**Thank you again for reading! Please don't forget to leave reviews; that's how I know if you guys like what I am doing or if I need to switch things up. Plus, I mean… reviews make me very happy. It makes me happy to know that you guys enjoy my writing. Chapter 12 is probably going to be a bit shorter but it will be coming very soon! Love you all. I'll stop rambling now. Bye. Xoxo, merderpedia :)**_


	12. Higher Power

_**Author's Note- Hi! So this is a really short update but it's something I decided to add in because I think all of us could use a dose of HAPPY right now. I hope you enjoy! :)**_

For hours, Richard had been waiting, his pager and cell phone at the ready. He had paced back and forth in the hallway outside of his former office, and contemplated asking a nurse to measure his vitals and see if his heart was beating at a dangerous rhythm.

Owen Hunt had left with Search and Rescue this morning. They had found the crash; that was confirmed but so far, the only person they knew was alive was Cristina Yang. It was something; Richard told himself that… he was extremely thankful that Cristina Yang had survived. If the other five surgeons had expired, though, Richard was not sure how deeply he would be able to express his thanks for Cristina's life.

Suddenly, there was a buzzing noise and it was coming from Richard's pocket. His phone was ringing. Richard had been waiting for what felt like centuries and now that his phone was ringing, he was not sure if he wanted to answer it. It was likely one of those scenarios where ignorance was bliss.

But the families of the lost surgeons were waiting downstairs. There were nurses and patients and church groups and friends, all waiting for Richard to give an announcement. Owen would not call if he did not have significant news. Swallowing his fear, Richard picked up the phone and did not bother greeting his colleague: "Is it Cristina? Is she… is she the only one alive?"

"No," Owen replied and then he was sobbing down the phone. Owen Hunt was crying and Richard froze. Someone else was alive… maybe one other person… but the state of affairs could not be good.

And then Owen continued through his sobs: "They're all alive… they're all alive and at Boise. I don't know if they'll make it much longer, their injuries and infections are extensive, especially Lexie and Derek but… but they're hanging in there. They made it here. I can… I can give you a rundown."

They were alive… they were all alive! Richard almost asked Owen if he was joking because it seemed like such an impossibility but Owen would not joke about something like this. The six surgeons were still alive and even if they could not sustain much longer, the families would have something to hope for, something at which to grasp… maybe Richard would make it to Boise in time to see Meredith.

"Thank God," he whispered down the phone to Owen and after receiving his short summaries of each patient, they hung-up. Richard virtually ran down the hallway and to the lobby where all of the families were congregating. They were leaving periodically- Carolyn Shepherd, for example, had booked a nearby hotel- but no one was going anywhere while Search and Rescue were still out.

Part of Richard wanted to stand up on the staircase and shout the miracle from the rooftops- the doctors were alive! But he knew that that would not be a good plan. He needed to tell them one by one so they would have time to react however they pleased.

"Attention, everybody!" Richard yelled from the balcony and the families looked up. "I have received an update from Dr. Hunt and there's good news and bad news. I need to meet with you one by one- or at least with each family, one by one."

Instantly, everyone started moving- Callie Torres was first out of her seat and she practically dragged Arizona's parents forward. "We're first! I was here first and… and we're first."

"Of course. Come with me, Callie… Mr. and Mrs. Robbins," Richard said and he led them to an empty conference room. This time, Arizona's father did not correct anyone on the proper way to pronounce his name.

They sat down across from Richard in the conference room. Richard attempted to keep his face as neutral as possible because he did not want to give them false hope.

"Just tell us," Callie begged and there were tears in her eyes.

"Well, Dr. Hunt and the Coast Guard were able to find the remains of the aircraft. That led them to the surgeons. I am happy to tell you that although critically injured, Arizona is alive," Richard said and allowed himself to smile, tentatively.

A few seconds went by and then Callie's mouth popped open in surprise. She began laughing and crying at the same time. "She's alive?! Oh my God, she's alive?!"

"Arizona is alive," Richard repeated and watched as the two parents embraced each other through their sobs.

Seconds later, they pulled themselves apart and Arizona's father composed himself; he was the colonel, after all. "Okay, so… is she coming here? When can we see her?"

"What are her injuries?" Callie added.

"All I know so far is that Arizona has a fractured left femur and some sort of infection," Richard explained. "Due to the nature of her injury, and the others, they were forced to take them to the closest hospital which was Boise Memorial. Once I have informed all the families, we will be preparing a bus to drive over there."

This was fine; Arizona's parents jumped up and her mother was giddy with pleasure. "We can live with that; we can live with a broken leg."

"I can fix her broken leg," Callie agreed and then stopped short. "But wait, what about Mark? We're the only ones here for him. Can you tell us about Mark, too?"

Richard considered but it only seemed right. Mark's parents had passed away and he had no siblings so it was Callie, Arizona, and Derek that were closest with him.

"Of course," Richard said. "Mark is stable. He is extremely dehydrated and Owen believes that he has some burns on the right side of his body that may be third degree but he was conscious and talking upon rescue. His most severe injury thus far, other than burns, is a broken ankle so… so overall, he should be fine."

"Oh my God!" Callie cried and began laughing and crying all over again. "Thank you, Richard!"

"You're welcome," Richard smiled. This was his favorite part of his job- when he got to tell the families good news. There would not be this much excitement from all the parents but this was a good outcome.

"Just do me one favor," Richard requested before they left. "Don't go out announcing anything to the others yet. I have some tough news to break to some of them and I would rather you exit out the other door. There will be some nurses out there waiting for you; you need to fill out some paperwork before getting on the bus to Boise."

The Robbins family, Callie included, quickly agreed and did as they were told. Richard paged Miranda Bailey, who was out in the lobby still, and told her to send in the Yang family. That would be another relatively easy one.

Approximately one minute later, the door to the conference room flew open. Richard readjusted his face as Helen Rubenstein sprinted over and sat down across from him. "What is going on? Did they find the plane?!"

"Yes, Dr. Hunt and the Coast Guard were able to locate the remains of the aircraft," Richard confirmed. "The good news is… I'm happy to tell you that your daughter, Cristina is alive."

Helen's entire face brightened. "Cristina is alive?! Oh, thank God!"

"Yes, Cristina is alive but she is injured and that is the bad news," Richard said. "Nothing looks too severe though. She has a broken collarbone and sustained trauma to her left shoulder which is basically a fancy way of saying that she has a dislocated shoulder. There are a few other lacerations- cuts and bruises- and she's very dehydrated and exhausted- but overall, I think your daughter got very lucky. She'll be fine."

In one quick movement, Helen got up, walked around the desk, and threw her arms around Richard. "Thank you, thank you so much! Thank you, God! Is she on her way here?"

Richard explained the same thing that he had to Arizona's family- that Cristina was being taken to Boise Memorial and a bus would be traveling there soon. Helen immediately agreed to get on the bus and exited out the back door like instructed. Based on the cheerful greetings, it sounded like Helen was celebrating with Arizona's loved ones.

Next into the conference room was the Shepherd family which currently consisted of only Carolyn Shepherd. Richard had met Carolyn numerous times before though so it was an awkward situation as she sat down on the other side of the desk.

"I raised five doctors," Carolyn said straight away. "I know how doctors work. You're going to break the news to me slowly, right? You're going to tell me that you did everything you could."

Richard smiled sadly. "Let me just say my piece first, alright?"

Carolyn did not refuse so Richard continued: "Dr. Hunt and the Coast Guard were successful in locating the remains of the aircraft. It appears that it went down just outside of Idaho, in the very eastern part of Oregon."

"And… did they find any of our people?" Carolyn whispered, her voice ready to break.

"They did. They found all of them, in fact," Richard said and took a deep breath. "Listen to me, Mrs. Shepherd. Your son, Derek is critically injured… but as of right now, he is alive."

Realization set in for a third time. Carolyn let out a huge sigh of relief. "H-He's alive?"

"Derek is alive, as of right now," Richard repeated. "I don't know all the details yet. From what I've heard, it's… it's going to be back and forth for a while. His left hand was broken in several places and infected. Obviously, that could complicate things as far as him being a surgeon goes. He will need multiple surgeries. According to Dr. Hunt, Derek also has an extremely high fever because of the infection, a concussion, fractured ribs, and his stats are running high, overall. There might be more internal bleeding. Honestly, the way that Hunt put it… I wouldn't get your hopes up too high, Mrs. Shepherd but… yes, as of this very moment, Derek is alive."

The reality of her son's condition must have registered because Carolyn wiped at her eyes but then she took a deep breath. "Okay… okay, well… he's alive now. Is he coming here? Can I see him? How is Meredith?"

"I can't release all the information on Meredith yet, not until I meet with her father but I will tell you that she's alive," Richard said. "Due to the fact that everyone's injuries were severe, the doctors were taken to the closest hospital which was Boise Memorial. We are preparing a bus to drive over there. If you just take the back door, you'll meet up with the other families I've spoken with so far and you can make any necessary phone calls there."

Carolyn agreed quickly and got up but before she left, she too, hugged Richard and even kissed him on top of the head. "Thank you so much. Thank you."

The last meeting was going to be the toughest. Richard took a few minutes to sit by himself before paging Bailey because he needed to call on his higher power to help him through this task. He was closest with Meredith, Ellis Grey's daughter. There were two daughters, really, because of Lexie… Thatcher was emotional ever since the death of his wife and too much bad news at once could potentially spiral him into a relapse.

Oh, and then there was the part where Richard had had an affair with Thatcher's wife. He was probably not the best person for this job but it would be cowardly to back out now.

Sure enough, when Thatcher opened the door to the conference room, his eyes were red and tearful and seeing Richard did not make things any easier. He sat down across the desk and sighed, "So you're the one that's going to tell me that my daughters are dead?"

"Just… just hold on," Richard said and he sighed, too. "I'm sorry that this has been so painful for you… now and… and before. I'm sorry that I have to be the one to do this but I think you would prefer hearing it straight from me instead of passing it down the line."

"I guess you're right about that," Thatcher agreed and crossed his arms, waiting.

Richard took another breath to steady himself. "Okay, so… Dr. Hunt and the Coast Guard were able to locate the remains of the aircraft. It appears that the plane went down right outside of Idaho, in eastern Oregon and we don't know the reason behind it yet. However, we… we were able to find all six surgeons."

"Y-You found… Lexie and… and Meredith?" Thatcher asked, emotion rattling his voice.

"We did… and let me start by saying that both of your daughters are extraordinarily strong. They're fighters and… and leaders and both of them were alive yet unconscious when found by the Coast Guard," Richard said.

Thatcher blinked a few times. "W-Wait, so… so they're alive?"

"Both of your daughters are critically injured, Thatcher, especially Lexie. I wish I could say that they were going to be alright but I don't know that. All I know is that they were alive when Hunt found them and that they made it to Boise Memorial alive," Richard explained.

"Why are they going there? They should take them here, to Seattle Grace. You guys are the best, right?" Thatcher pressed.

"We're one of the top ten teaching hospitals, yes, but due to the severity of your daughters' injuries, they had to take them to the closest medical center," Richard said. "Try not to worry. We're getting a bus for anyone who wants to make the trip over to Boise and see loved ones."

Thatcher nodded. "Well, yeah, I… I obviously want to do that! How much does it cost? Damn, these medical bills for Lexie alone are gonna be sky-high…"

"Don't worry about that right now. Your only concern should be your daughters. The hospital will take care of the bus fees and we can talk about payment plans for the medical bills later once Lexie is better," Richard said.

"Do we know that she's gonna be better, at all? What are her injuries? What are Meredith's injuries?"

"I cannot guarantee anything," Richard said for what felt like the hundredth time. "But… but so far, what I know is… is that Meredith has a head injury of some type. That could range anywhere from a concussion to a TBI… traumatic brain injury. She also apparently has some broken ribs and trauma to her left leg but again, I don't know how much… it could be a fracture. It could be burns. I don't know. I just know that she's injured but alive and extremely dehydrated. Apparently she lost a lot of blood and had an irregular heartbeat."

Thatcher nodded and wiped at his eyes; it was good to see that, at the very least, he cared about his eldest daughter. "And… and Lexie?"

"Lexie was… Lexie was probably injured the worst. From what Hunt gathered, we think she was trapped underneath part of the plane wreckage. She had several major, internal traumas that typically would have killed her within hours but the good thing about this particular plane crash is… well, she was surrounded by surgeons and they managed to keep her alive. She lost a lot of blood, though. Both of her legs are broken in several places. There was some… some other minor stuff that I didn't listen to, honestly, when I heard what I did… a concussion, a broken nose…"

"Yeah, I don't care about that. Lexie will look beautiful even if her nose is crooked," Thatcher said. "Do you think she has a chance, Richard?"

Richard nodded but he nodded slowly. He could not lie to Thatcher Grey. "I've seen people survive worse; I'll give you that… and Lexie apparently was the first person they rescued so she's been at the hospital for a while. I don't know if she has a good chance, Thatcher, I'll be honest but I do believe she has a chance."

"Okay… okay, well then… we need to get to Boise."

"Let's do it," Richard agreed and the two men got up and walked out of the conference room together where the rest of the families were waiting once again.

_**Okay, that's it! Like I said, I know it was really short but I thought it would be fun to see how the friends and families of the plane crash victims reacted when they learned that their loved ones were alive. And by the way, I am planning on making Thatcher Grey a bigger character in this story, despite the fact that I don't really like him (or Richard) much… I just think it is so ridiculous that Grey's Anatomy never included Thatcher for any of the storyline after the plane crash and I know Jeff Perry was busy with Scandal, but that does not erase my anger lol. **_

_**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and if you did, please don't forget to favorite/follow and leave a review! Thank you so much for reading… Chapter 13 will be coming very shortly! Xoxo, merderpedia :)**_


	13. Reflections pt 1

_**Author's Note- Hello again! I know I said on Twitter that this update was going to be posted in only two or three days and I'm REALLY sorry about breaking that promise. In fact, I just need to stop making promises like that because if there's one thing I learned about writing, it's that editing will always take longer than you anticipate. **_

_**Oh, and FYI… these next two chapters are going to be focused on the other plane crash survivors besides Meredith. We've already heard a lot from her and most of the rest of the story is still going to be from her perspective but I thought it would be nice to check in with the other survivors as well so that is what we'll be doing in Reflections Part 1 and Part 2. This is Part 1 and the first half of this chapter is from Derek's POV and then the second half is from Arizona's POV. **_

_**I would say that Reflections Part 2 would be up in a couple days but again… um, no promises. But Chapter 13 is up now so I hope you enjoy! **_

Most people are intimidated by hospitals. There is the emergency room… the ICU… the morgue… according to society, medical centers are most commonly associated with fear… with death. It is different for physicians. Doctors tend to feel comfortable in the midst of chaos. They know the truth, that hospitals are a place of healing and for as long as he could remember, Derek felt calmer in the operating room than he did at home, relaxing on the couch.

Or at least, that's how it was before Gary Clark entered Seattle Grace Mercy West with a gun and ended over a dozen innocent lives. After the shooting, it was harder for Derek to focus on his ICU patients, to forget about the long hours he had spent lying in bed there… the ICU reminded Derek of getting shot and getting shot reminded Derek of his father's untimely murder. Meredith might not know it, but Derek still thought about his dad on a daily basis. He thought about his father and his strong, courageous mother… about Amelia, flatlining from a drug overdose and waking-up in the ICU with a breathing tube stuck down his throat.

Meredith had been there the entire time; she had never left Derek's side but nothing, not even Meredith took away the ultimate terror and anxiety that had plagued Derek for weeks on end.

Now, he was back… he was in the ICU with pain radiating out of every inch of his body and Derek's first thought was, _I can't do this again._

And then he opened his eyes, saw the massive cast encasing his left arm, and realized that somehow, the group of surgeons must have been rescued from the forest. Derek, at least, against all odds, survived the plane crash and he had been transported to an unfamiliar hospital. He was completely alone.

The plane crash… where was everyone else? Derek thought about Meredith, who had been hurt… he did not remember her precise condition but he knew that Meredith was injured and that he had been unable to help her. Was Meredith dead? Was Mark dead? Derek was supposed to be dead… he tried to look around but any movement of his head sent waves of nauseating pain down his spine. He attempted to speak, too, but Derek was too weak to mutter anything louder than a whisper. How was he supposed to get anyone's attention this way?

_Think!_ Derek commanded himself; it was making him frantic that he could not remember everything. He was a neurosurgeon; his neurological function could not be compromised…

Luckily, just then, a nurse walked into the room, holding a clipboard. She was probably checking Derek's vitals but when she saw that her patient's eyes were open, startled. "Dr. Shepherd! I-It's good to see you awake."

"M-My… my wife… where's… my wife…" Derek whispered.

"I'll go find out. And I'll go find your doctor; I'll let him know that you're awake," the nurse said and ran in the opposite direction.

Less than five minutes later, a man walked into Derek's room and Derek instantly recognized him as Dr. Seth Olsen. They had worked together on a case before, right after Derek had first moved to Seattle. At the time, he was going through the messy divorce with Addison. All of that seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Dr. Shepherd, it's good to see you awake. You gave us a scare in surgery, several times," Dr. Olsen said. "How are you feeling?"

"C-Come on… Seth, you… you b-better call me… Derek. I'm… I'm not much of… of a doctor… r-r-right now," Derek gasped; he was not sure why he was still struggling for air.

Seth smiled and sat down in a chair next to the bed. "Alright, then… so will Derek tell me how he's feeling? Any pain?"

Derek wanted to say no; it was a well-known fact that doctors make the worst patients but he could not lie very well at the moment. He winced aloud when he opened his mouth and then was only able to choke out, "Y-Yeah…"

"Okay, we'll increase your morphine. You're extremely lucky; I hope you realize that, Derek," Seth said; he was not smiling anymore.

"W-What… happened?" Derek asked. "W-Where's… where's my wife… where… are we…"

"Hold up just a moment," Seth instructed; he shined a flashlight into Derek's eyes and then waved it back and forth. The latter knew that he was checking his pupils to make sure they were equal and reactive. "Can you tell me your full name, Derek?"

It was unbelievable that Derek was actually in this position, being asked these questions… just as unbelievable as when Derek woke-up in the ICU after being shot in the chest… he nodded as much as he could without triggering his pain. "D-Derek… Christopher… Shepherd."

"Alright, and the year?"

"It's… er… 2013."

"Very good and… what is your birthdate?"

"D-December 15th, 1967," Derek said and this appeared to satisfy Seth because he put the flashlight away and sat back down in his chair. Derek glanced in his direction. "W-What happened, am I… did I have… have brain damage?"

Seth sighed. "I'm not sure. You have a grade two concussion but there was no intracranial bleeding. We're mainly keeping an eye on your neurological function because your vitals were so high upon arrival at the hospital that you were in danger of stroking out. We were forced to wait longer than we would have liked to take you to surgery."

"S-Surgery…" Derek repeated; even though he had the huge cast on his arm, it was like he had already forgotten that he had undergone an operation.

"Yes, how about we talk more about this later, okay, Derek?" Seth suggested. "You're in a lot of pain at the moment and soon you'll be incoherent due to the morphine. You probably won't remember whatever I tell you. Just try to relax and…"

"N-No," Derek interrupted. He tried to push himself up in bed. "G-Give me the verdict… Doc…"

There was a pause as Seth considered; Derek might have dozed off during this time but if he did, he was awake again seconds later and heard Seth's reply. "Well, like I said, there's the concussion. You also have four fractured ribs and minor lacerations to your liver and lungs. You were coughing up blood in the emergency room but we've administered Aprotinin which should keep the bleeding under control. Don't get me wrong, Derek; I'm more than willing to open you up again but I think we would both prefer to avoid another surgery. Plus, your vitals are still not where I would like them to be and I'm not sure if your system could handle another major operation right now."

"Another… major… w-what, w-what happened?" Derek repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. He was having a hard time finding the words he wanted to use to ask his questions.

"We already performed one surgery on your hand, Derek. That's your most severe injury; I'm sorry, I… I assumed that you remembered that part," Seth apologized. "Your hand was broken in several places and I repaired what I could but you may want to see a hand specialist, perhaps a neurosurgeon. There's a lot of nerve damage."

It was about what Derek expected, although it did not make the news any more pleasant. "And… in your opinion, w-will I… will I… operate… again?"

"I don't know. I wish I did. I know there are a lot of doctors out there, doctors a hell of a lot better than me and the other surgeons who worked on your case," Seth confessed. "First though, Derek… you know we need to focus on saving your life. Your life is more important than your career and the truth is, we almost lost you on that table this morning. Your BP was high, high enough that I was uncertain how much cognitive function you would wake up with… if you would wake-up at all."

Derek understood what Seth was saying… he was telling Derek that he was lucky and that he should be grateful about the fact that he was alive instead of moaning about whether or not he would ever perform brain surgery again. And Derek knew it could have been so much worse but at this present moment, lying here in this hospital bed with pain seeping out of every bone in his body, it was difficult to feel fortunate.

But it was Derek Shepherd, the optimist, the man that balanced out his wife's dark and twisty thoughts. So he forced a small, weak smile onto his face. "T-Thanks, Seth… really, I… thank you."

"No need," Seth said and smiled in return. "Try and get some rest for now. We'll get some more morphine in your system; you've already got lots of fluids, antibiotics, and blood coming your way. You'll feel better soon. I know it doesn't seem like it now but you will."

Seth was on his way out the door when suddenly, Derek remembered the reason he had called for help in the first place. His heartbeat sped up and Seth turned around, aware of the monitors beeping in alarm. "Derek? What's going on, are you…"

"M-Meredith," Derek choked out and he tried to swing his legs off the bed and stand up but Seth rushed over and pushed him back down against his pillows.

"Derek, Derek, easy… you can't be getting up yet, man. You just got out of surgery a few hours ago and you're incredibly weak; you know that," Seth said.

"But my… my wife… where's… where's my wife…" Derek moaned.

After making sure that Derek was safely back in bed, Seth took a deep breath and sat down again. "Your wife now is Dr. Meredith Grey, correct?"

"Y-Yes, she's… is she okay… she's gotta be okay, I gotta…"

"You don't need to do anything," Seth interrupted Derek. "Meredith is fine. She's a few rooms down the hall, resting… she's stable."

_She's stable._ Derek repeated that small sentence in his mind. Meredith was stable and that was all that really mattered. "T-Thank you. I'm sorry I'm… I'm such a… helpless… pain in the… the ass right… now."

"You were just in a plane crash, Derek. You're allowed to be a little bit helpless right now," Seth reminded him and then smiled. "Are we good to go now? Are you stable?"

"I'm… I'm stable," Derek agreed and with this latest piece of news, with the knowledge that his wife had survived, Derek's body could not hold on to consciousness any longer. He drifted off to sleep and prayed that when he wokeup, he would feel better.

The next thing that Derek knew, there was someone hovering over his bed. Initially, he ignored this figure because he knew that he was in the hospital; he knew that nurses and techs would be in and out of the room to monitor his vitals and to be honest, Derek was in too much pain to attempt conversation. Right as he was about to close his eyes again though, he glanced to his left and realized that the individual in his room, currently sitting in the chair next to him, was his mother, Carolyn.

Derek blinked several times and took a steadying breath. "M-Mom?"

"Derek, sweetheart," his mother sighed and Derek felt a gentle hand touch his face. "Sweetheart, I'm right here. I'm so happy to see you awake, to see you… alive."

It was impossible to nod or even smile at the moment due to the pain but Derek did appreciate his mother being here, coming here from New York City. "Y-Yeah, it's… it's good to… see you, too…"

Carolyn frowned as she stroked her son's hair. "How's the pain? Are you in a lot of pain?"

"Uh, it's… it's not… that bad," Derek lied; he did not want to worry her.

"Your doctor, Seth Olsen told me that you had a rough time in surgery this morning… told me that you almost stroked out because of high blood pressure," Carolyn continued.

Derek blinked again; he was not sure how to respond to a statement like that. "Oh…"

"Yeah… he also told me that you have some lacerations to the liver and left lung and because of that, we need to watch your brain function very closely. I'm not sure if they explained it all to you but they gave you some medication to help with the bleeding and… well, combined with the high blood pressure, you're considered a high-risk patient… the probability of a stroke occurring…"

Carolyn trailed off and Derek knew it was because she could not bear to voice the possibilities aloud. He took another shaky breath. "M-Mom, if… if I have… a stroke… tell them to d-do… everything they… can… I mean… do surgery and… and everything but… if I'm g-gone, I'm… I'm gone. Don't… I don't want M-Meredith to… be in the position to… to have to…"

This time, it was Derek that trailed off and he looked away from his mother who was struggling to keep herself together, tears pooling in her eyes.

"Shh, sweetheart," she soothed and ran her fingers through Derek's hair again. "Don't worry, that's not going to happen. We won't let that happen."

Slowly, Derek nodded and instantly, an onslaught of pain rocked him from head to toe; he gasped aloud from the pain. He had underestimated his patients in the past, even the ones that were drug addicts or criminals… trauma was excruciating.

Carolyn jumped to her feet in response to the sound her son had made. "What hurts, honey? Aren't they giving you morphine?"

"Y-Yeah they… they are," Derek winced.

"Just not enough," his mother assumed and a second later, Derek felt a cool, wet towel being pressed against his forehead. "Okay, well… don't worry, we'll get you something more for the pain. It's gonna be okay, sweetie. You're safe now and it's gonna be okay."

Derek knew that; so many people had told him that in the last few hours but for some reason, the more that his mother spoke, the less he believed her. He was not sure if Meredith was really okay or if Mark was alive… there was a good chance that Lexie was dead by now. Derek began breathing harder and quicker; he was hyperventilating and then he was afraid that he was going to have a stroke and never see Meredith again at all so tried to stop but he could not stop…

"Derek," his mother's voice called from far away and there were hands on his shoulders. "Derek, honey… you need to calm down. You need to breathe; your pulse is getting way too high…"

"M-M-Meredith… I… I need… Meredith…" Derek panted.

"Meredith can't come in here right now, sweetheart. She's resting in her own room but she's alright. She's going to be fine and she needs you to…"

The world went blurry. Derek was not sure what his mother was saying. All he knew was that he was dying, that there were nurses and doctors running in and out of his room, and that a clear oxygen mask was being pressed down over his face… and then everything slipped away.

Derek could not fight the blackness. Somehow, everything seemed worse now that he was out of the woods and all he wanted to do was escape.

**MTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTB**

In the back of her mind, Arizona thought she could remember a helicopter descending upon their camp in the woods… paramedics rushing around the plane wreckage, securing her to a rescue board. Arizona had wished for this to occur so many times though, that she was not sure if it was just a dream.

And then the blackness that had overtaken her immediately following this fantasy retreated. Arizona opened her eyes and realized that she was in the emergency room of an unknown hospital. She was hooked-up to a bunch of different machines and a doctor in aqua-colored scrubs was taking her vitals. Arizona blinked a few times and that was when the doctor must have noticed that her patient was awake.

"Arizona?" a soft voice called. "Arizona, my name is Dr. Manning. Don't worry; we're going to take really good care of you, okay?"

For a moment, Arizona did not want to open her mouth because she was not sure if she was going to be able to say anything without screaming but she swallowed hard and decided that her voice was there. "I'm… we… we got… saved?"

"Yes, you were in a plane crash," Dr. Manning said. "You're at Boise Memorial Hospital now, though and we're going to take really good care of you."

"You… you already… said that," Arizona muttered and then she came to the conclusion that that was a pretty stupid thing to say. She repeated the same words to patients all the time: _Everything is going to be fine. We're going to take really good care of you. Don't worry; we're going to do everything we can._

While her overall assessment was being completed, Arizona dozed in and out. She had a feeling that the doctors here at Boise Memorial had already medicated her because her pain levels were nothing compared to what they had been and she was extremely drowsy. Arizona did not know how morphine actually affected her though because she had never had surgery before. She had her wisdom teeth out in college but even then, Arizona's pain medication was limited to Tramadol.

The next thing Arizona knew, she was in triage and there were standard emergency room curtains surrounding her on all four sides. She could hear doctors talking only yards away. They were discussing her femur like she was not even there.

"The extensive bone injury along with the degree of soft-tissue infection is troubling. No matter what we do, if the infection goes to the bone, it'll be hard to treat. And eventually, you're looking at bone loss. I'm gonna have to say officially, I'm recommending amputation."

In one quick movement, Arizona thrust the curtains aside and glared at the physicians. "Show me those."

The doctors, whether they were residents or attendings hesitated, Arizona's x-rays in their hands. Arizona held out her palm, waiting. "Show them to me!"

One of the younger doctors, probably a resident, surrendered and gave Arizona her chart. She skimmed over the images. The break was bad, just like they had said and the infection was worse. Arizona knew that if they were back home in Seattle and a child had come in with this kind of injury, that Callie would recommend amputation, too. But Callie was a superstar that pushed herself beyond normal limits. She would figure something out.

"I withhold consent," Arizona said and all of the physicians in front of her froze. "I withhold consent! Before you drug me or sedate me, I give n-nobody permission to cut off my leg… and certainly not some yahoo in dump truck Idaho. I want to go home to Callie. She'll know what to do. Just let me go home."

The lead doctor, likely the attending, stepped forward. She was Asian and looked similar to Cristina Yang. "Dr. Robbins, we can't just send you home. We brought you to the closest hospital for a reason and your loved ones are currently on their way here to see you. We have to stabilize your leg, one way or another."

"Fine, then take me to surgery and set the bone," Arizona said. "But I do not give you permission to cut off my leg, no matter what happens. If you cut off my leg, I'm suing you. My wife is an orthopedic surgeon and I withhold consent from all of you idiots."

Arizona expected Cristina Yang's doppelganger to be insulted but if she was, she did not show it. All she did was give some orders to her residents and then take a few steps closer to Arizona. "Alright, Dr. Robbins. We will not amputate. However, I want to reiterate that your injury is very severe. Would you really rather die than lose your leg? Because if the infection spreads, there is a good chance of that happening."

"Yes, I know that, thank you," Arizona said and when her attending's face became alarmed, quickly added, "And no, I'm not suicidal. I'm just a doctor… a surgeon. I know how this works. You can figure something else out and if you can't, then Callie can. Set my femur but don't you dare do anything else."

Most of the surgery preparation, Arizona did not remember. Dr. Lee, the one who looked like Cristina, apparently increased Arizona's morphine so that she would be knocked out and quiet. All Arizona recalled was being pushed down a hallway on a gurney and then waking-up in a comfortable bed in the ICU.

For the first time in forever, Arizona was happy… or at least she was not miserable. Her femur was still throbbing and she was feeling the effects of her probable concussion but Arizona woke-up in a hospital. She was not in the middle of the forest. There were no bugs attempting to eat her alive.

There was a thick, white bandage covering her entire left leg which confirmed the fact that she had survived surgery. Arizona reached over to the side of her bed and pressed the nurses' call button. Within a minute, a young, blonde girl entered the room and smiled. "Hi, Dr. Robbins. How are you feeling?"

"Like I have a broken femur," Arizona replied. "Do you know where my surgeon is? I'd like to talk with her in more depth and I'm sure my wife would, too, when she gets here. My wife is an orthopedic surgeon."

"Dr. Elisabeth Lee?" the nurse asked and Arizona assumed that was who she had visited with in the ER earlier so she shrugged and nodded. "I'll go find her."

Five minutes later, the Asian woman that shared such a striking resemblance to Cristina Yang walked into the room. "Hello, Dr. Robbins. It's good to see you awake; how are you feeling?"

"Like I have a broken femur," Arizona repeated. "Is there any way you could up my morphine and maybe find my wife?"

"We've been in contact with your wife. She's on her way from Seattle with a bus full of other people," Dr. Lee said. "Trust me, she's desperate to see you."

Arizona tried to smile as she thought of Callie… beautiful Callie who never should have had to go through what she did in the last few days. "Do you know if Alex Karev is coming?"

"I… don't know anyone by that name but we can see if we can get a hold of him. Is he family?" Dr. Lee asked.

"No… no, um… he's a student of mine."

Dr. Lee made a note on her legal pad. "Alright, well, we will see what can be done. In the meantime, we need you to stay in bed and let your body recover. You're probably aware that you were severely dehydrated and lost a lot of blood. You're receiving a blood transfusion now and getting pumped up with fluids, oxygen, and antibiotics."

"And… and that's it? You fixed my leg?" Arizona had not expected it to be so simple but Dr. Lee was talking like she was on the road to recovery. Maybe the infection was not as bad as it looked on the scans.

"Well, for right now, we're watching it carefully. There's still a lot of infection," Dr. Lee explained. "Hopefully, the antibiotics will clear that up but if not, I still think that amputation should remain in the equation."

Arizona shook her head. "No… I'm stable for now. If it gets to the point that amputation is the only thing you guys can think of, then it's time for me to go to Seattle Grace. They're a top ten teaching hospital, unlike this circus. They'll find a way to save my leg."

"Um… okay, well first we're just going to work on getting you stabilized. It's more important to save your life than it is to save your leg," Dr. Lee said.

She was about to run out of the room when Arizona called her back. She could not believe how scared Dr. Lee was acting; it was like she was a nervous resident. They would not allow a resident to operate on her, would they?

"I uh… I just wondered… what year are you in, like, resident-wise?" Arizona hoped she would be corrected and she was…

"I'm a third year attending, thank you very much. And I graduated first in my year at Yale."

Arizona nodded. "Okay, sorry… I'm just… I'm really worried about my friends. Do you know if they're all alive? Can you give me an update on Mark Sloan?"

"They aren't my patients," Dr. Lee said and Arizona gave her the best puppy-dog eyes she could muster. She had just been in the woods for four days, after all, and Arizona did not even like to camp. Dr. Lee sighed and continued, "But I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you so much," Arizona smiled sweetly.

Dr. Lee nodded and walked out. She was Cristina Yang through and through- even her demeanor was similar.

It could have been five minutes or five hours later- Arizona thought she had nodded off due to the morphine- that she first heard masses of loud voices and footsteps in the hallway. These were sounds that she was used to on a regular basis back at Seattle Grace, the noises of the ICU but somehow, they were different, scarier here in Boise. Maybe it was because Arizona did not know any of these nurses or due to her being a patient this time.

Either way, Arizona was tired. She was exhausted physically from the surgery and from everything else her body had endured during the last four days. She was tired of being alone; she wanted the real orthopedic surgeon here with her…

And just as Arizona thought those words, there was a knock on the doorway of her room and she looked up to see the same blonde nurse that had been here earlier. "Hello, Dr. Robbins. Are you feeling up for some visitors?"

"Is it my wife? Where's Callie?" Arizona asked.

"Er… no, I don't think…" the nurse muttered but before she could finish, two other individuals burst through the door and both of them were crying tears of happiness and emotion.

It was Arizona's parents, her beloved mother and Colonel Robbins. She had not seen them since her wedding last year and she had never, ever seen her father cry, not since Paul had died more than twenty years ago…

"Mom, Dad!" Arizona gasped and held out her arms.

Her mother instantly embraced her. "Arizona, thank God… we've been so worried, sweetheart… we thought… oh, God…"

Before she knew it, Arizona was sobbing too, about everything. She was crying because she had been in a plane crash and she was crying because she had been rescued. "M-Me, too… I… I didn't think I was gonna… make it out… the f-fracture was…"

"It was bad, we know," Arizona's mother interrupted as she sat down in one of the chairs beside the bed. "Dr. Lee showed us the x-rays. She must be an incredible surgeon, to be able to… to fix as much as she did."

"Yeah, but not as good as Callie," Arizona said, wiping away the tears. "Where is Callie, Mom? She came, didn't she? She better have come from Seattle; is Sofia here?"

Her mother shook her head. "Sofia isn't here; Callie left her and Zola at home with um… with Alex Karev. She didn't know exactly the state that you or Mark would be in and didn't want to scare her but… but yes, Callie is here, honey. She should be in any minute. She wanted to stop by and see Mark first."

_Callie wanted to see Mark first?_ Arizona was hurt but tried not to show it. She cared about Mark just like anyone and she hoped that he was alright but if it had been Callie on that plane, the first person Arizona would have wanted to visit is her wife… and Callie wanted to see Mark more than Arizona? That was downright insulting.

"You know, I wasn't supposed to be on the plane in the first place," Arizona said after a moment to break the silence. "It was Alex Karev that was supposed to go but then I took his place because… because he was a dumbass and decided to take a fellowship at Johns Hopkins."

"Alex Karev isn't gone yet though, Arizona. He's at home watching your daughter right now…"

"And if I had any idea that he had copped out of this at the last minute, I never would have left Sofia with him," Colonel Robbins added. "He sounds like a coward."

_He is a coward,_ Arizona thought and before she could help it, _And Callie is, too. Callie is too freaked-out to come and see me even after I spent four consecutive days in the forest, dying._

Suddenly, the door to Arizona's room swung open for a third time. Arizona looked up and for the first time in five days, stared into the beautiful face of Calliope Torres. Any of her previous anger melted away as she watched Callie stumble forward, stunned, heartbroken, helpless.

"I'll give you two some… some space to catch up," Arizona's mother smiled and she stood up. "Come on, Daniel. Let's go and… let's go and check on Mark and the others. Arizona will want a report on her friends."

It took a moment of persuasion because Colonel Robbins liked to make all of his own decisions but he eventually did as he was told and followed his wife back into the hallway. Arizona and Callie were completely alone.

The latter sat down in the chair that had been vacated by Arizona's mother. She reached out and grasped onto Arizona's hand. "Baby… oh my God, baby…"

"It's funny, isn't it?" Arizona smirked before she could stop herself. "I'm married to an orthopedic surgeon and I'm the one that woke-up after the crash with my femur sticking out of my leg."

Callie nodded shortly, but it was clear that she did not think Arizona's joke was funny. "Um… I can fix it. Don't worry, I can fix it. I saw the scans and I've… I've seen worse."

"I know you have," Arizona said. "I know I'm not going to die. But have you seen worse and managed to save the leg?"

"I've seen worse and I am an orthopedic goddess. I was running the ortho department at Seattle Grace when I was still a resident," Callie said. "We are going to figure something out."

_**Okay, that's it! Mark and Cristina's segments will be coming in Reflections Part 2 and then Lexie will have a chapter later once she wakes up from surgery. Sorry about all the angst but I'm sure by now, you guys have accepted that this is an angsty story. What can I say? Writing is my form of therapy. **_

_**Also I'm sorry if Arizona's part wasn't written the best or very long. I did my best but to be honest, although I LOVE Calzona, Arizona herself just isn't my favorite character and I struggle to see things from her perspective. And yes, I am going to work in some shooting recovery in this story too, at least for MerDer, because I think we all know that Grey's Anatomy did not accurately deal with their PTSD and they're going to be in therapy for the plane crash anyway. **_

_**If you enjoyed, please don't forget to follow/favorite, and leave reviews! It makes me very happy and it helps Derek feel better lol. Thank you so much for reading! Xoxo, merderpedia :)**_


	14. Reflections pt 2

_**Author's Note- Reflections Part 2 is here! The first half of this chapter is told from Mark's POV and the second part, although significantly shorter, is following Cristina. Enjoy!**_

According to Owen Hunt, Mark was the only surgeon who was conscious enough to hold a conversation when they were plucked out of the forest. According to Dr. Smyth, Mark was incredibly lucky not to be hurt worse than he was… but according to Mark, life completely sucked at the moment.

It was supposed to be an ordinary surgery. Mark had traveled to perform surgeries more times than he could count. The only thing that was supposed to happen was an amazing procedure on a set of conjoined twins… and maybe, if Mark got lucky, he would be able to have some celebration sex with Lexie afterwards.

Mark was not lying when he told Derek that he was not a cheater- usually. But Mark was feeling the pressure every day to break up with Julia. He did love her; she was great but he did not want the same thing to happen to him as it did to Derek. Mark's heart was waiting for Lexie and if he married Julia or had babies with Julia or whatever he planned on doing, then eventually, he would end up cheating and he knew that from the moment that Lexie had confessed her love for him.

And now, Mark Sloan was lying in a hospital bed at Boise Memorial. He had spent four straight days in the woods, doing everything possible to keep himself and his friends alive. Lexie could have died; Lexie might still die and there was nothing Mark could do to prevent it.

Life completely sucked.

Somehow, Mark managed to sleep soundly the first night at Boise. It likely had something to do with his complete and utter exhaustion and the large doses of morphine running through his system. According to Dr. Smyth, he had an uncomplicated fracture on his right ankle, two cracked ribs, a concussion, and third degree burns. That completely sucked; Mark had no idea when he would next be able to operate.

But either way, he slept through the night and allowed his blood to be replenished by a full bag of O-Positive that had been generously donated.

When he wokeup the next morning, Mark became aware of a sharp and throbbing pain that started in his upper back but surrounded his entire body to his chest. Chest pains were nothing to ignore; his eyes flew open. Owen Hunt was asleep in the corner of his hospital room.

"Rambo!" Mark yelled and Owen lurched awake. "I… I need a little help over here."

"What's up?" Owen said and walked over to the bedside.

Mark winced at the pain. "Chest pains… bad, bad chest pains and a ton of back pain… Rambo, I think I'm dying!"

"You're not dying. Your vitals are fine. It's probably anxiety."

That seemed unlikely. Mark scoffed. "It's not like I really have any reason to be anxious. It's not like we were in a freaking plane crash or anything."

"Right," Owen said and snorted; he seemed fairly anxious himself.

"What's up with you? Shouldn't you be with your wife?" Mark asked and then a horrible thought crossed his mind. "Wait, Cristina isn't dead, is she?"

"No, Cristina isn't dead. Cristina's fine; she's just… she's anxious too, and I think she wants to be alone for a little while," Owen explained.

Mark nodded slowly; he had the feeling that he was not getting the whole story but he was not going to press his friend. "Is everybody else okay?"

"Everyone's alive if that's what you mean. Meredith, Cristina, and Arizona are all stable."

"And Derek and Lexie?"

"They're both in pretty bad shape," Owen admitted. "Lexie's in surgery right now for her legs and they're cleaning up her chest from the cardiac tamponade. Derek just got out of surgery for his hand but it turns out he has some mild lacerations to his liver and lung, too. They couldn't do anymore surgery though. His BP was so high; he was gonna stroke out."

Mark was numb. This was without a doubt, the most traumatic thing that had ever happened to him… worse than the shooting, worse than everything that happened between Derek and Addison by a mile.

When the drama had gone down with Derek and Addie, Mark had not even known that a girl named Lexie Grey existed. He had no clue that Derek was going to run off to Seattle, fall in love with Meredith, and that Lexie would come into the equation. During the shooting, Mark and Lexie were not currently together (Lexie saw something in that Karev kid), but they were… together. Mark had shielded Lexie's head from the flying bullets and they proceeded to help Alex Karev…

Now, there was nothing that Mark could do for Lexie. She was in surgery; the incompetent doctors of Boise Memorial were operating on her. How had it happened that Mark was fine, relatively healthy, yet the two people on that plane that were most important to him were both dying?

"So… so are you saying Derek's gonna die?" Mark asked. "I mean, are they doing anything about the internal bleeding?"

"They're medicating him heavily and hoping it doesn't cause a stroke. I… I don't know; I wish I knew more," Owen said.

"And Lexie… she's… they're fixing her?"

"There's a lot of damage, Mark. I'm not going to lie to you. But yeah, they're doing everything they can."

_They're doing everything they can._ That was a load of crap. Mark had said that exact sentence to patients' families plenty of times and in a lot of those situations, the patients had ended up passing away… because sometimes everything was not enough.

"Hey," Owen said, suddenly snapping Mark out of his panic. "Since you're healthy for the most part and… and probably won't need surgery, your doctor said it was okay if you ate. Do you want some food?"

Mark had not consumed anything in five days and he knew that he should eat. He knew that under all the anxiety, he was hungry so nodded and Owen disappeared.

By the time he returned, Mark was seriously contemplating disconnecting his tubes and running through the hospital until he found Lexie… until he at least found Derek. But Owen was here to the rescue and placed a tray in front of Mark. It contained a small bowl of broth, some applesauce, and a cup of orange juice.

This was the standard after not eating for days. Mark knew that. He knew that it would not be safe to give his system anything rich or full of flavor. Still, he could not help but feel a little disappointed as he shoved a spoonful of applesauce into his mouth, the first actual nutrients he had consumed in almost a week.

"You really do look like hell; you know that, right?" Owen sighed as his friend ate.

"Yeah," Mark agreed and took a long sip of orange juice. "I don't think you would be looking too great if you had just spent four days in the woods either… four days trying to keep your best friends from bleeding out right in front of you."

Owen shook his head, an expression of pity on his face. "Yeah, I… God, I can't imagine… I've been through multiple tours in Iraq and I still can't imagine. I should have been out there with you guys. I should have gone instead of sending all of you. The conjoined twins thing was my idea."

"But you're a trauma surgeon," Mark reminded him. "I mean, the twins hadn't been through any trauma, not besides like, being born. Nah, you needed to stay behind and hold down the fort as chief… anything exciting happen while we were gone?"

"Nothing as exciting as what you've been through. The first day you were gone, I think the reason it took so long in the first place was because there were some firefighters nearby, finishing up their last day of training… building collapsed on them so the ER was hectic with that. That's no excuse though. We should have found you sooner," Owen explained.

Mark did not know what to say. He knew that Owen had done his best and that a lot of people had been throwing their everything into locating the lost surgeons. Right now though, it was hard to comfort Owen. The doctors should have been found faster and Mark could not joke otherwise, not when his best friend and the love of his life were potentially dying.

A few minutes later, Mark finished his small meal; he felt fuller than he had expected. Yawning, he pushed his tray aside and laid back against his pillows. "I guess we don't have any idea how long it's gonna be until I'm outta here?"

"No, I don't think anyone is thinking about discharge quite yet, Mark," Owen said. "They're gonna keep you here for a couple days, at least until everyone is stable and then fly you back to Seattle Grace… you'll probably have to go through therapy before being cleared…"

Owen trailed off, probably based off of the look that was on Mark's face. Halfway through Owen's answer, Mark had frozen up and it did not have anything to do with the prospect of therapy. "Fly us back to Seattle?! No… no, I'm not getting on another plane."

"Right, um… well, they can probably sedate you or something," Owen offered but Mark shook his head again.

"No… I'm not getting on another plane. We can be driven back; aren't our people coming on some greyhound bus or something?"

"Yeah, and they should be here any minute, actually," Owen said and he took a deep breath. "I guess there's no point in reminding you that the odds of a bus crash are fifty times higher than another plane crash?"

"No, there's no point at all," Mark said. "Plane crashes are rare, yeah but… live through what we just did and then you can go and run your mouth about the odds. The odds are crap. That's what Lexie always said…"

Owen smiled weakly. "Lexie said the odds are crap?"

"Yeah, she told me about this theory she had a bunch of times… the odds are just something we tell ourselves to make us feel better. She was usually ashamed to admit it because I mean, she's a scientist and everything but her mom died of the hiccups and the survival rate for those are probably like 100 percent. So she never put too much faith in the odds," Mark said.

"That's good then," Owen remarked. "Cause I mean, right now… I don't know everything going on with her medically but I know most scientists would say that the odds aren't in her favor. Hopefully she remembers that and fights… beats the odds."

Mark hoped that Lexie remembered that, too. He hoped that she did more than he could express in words. There was no way he could explain to Owen why he was so hopeless though… how Lexie had lost the will to live during the last two days in the forest… how Mark had performed CPR on her himself…

Owen read something on his cell phone and then abruptly jumped to his feet. Mark glanced up, his heart racing. "What happened?! Is it Lexie?! Derek?!"

"No, neither, uh… the bus is here. I just got a text from Richard that they pulled up outside and are getting checked-in so they can come up to the ICU," Owen said.

That was good, Mark guessed. It would be good to see someone else from home, especially Callie but the only people he really wanted to visit were Derek and Lexie. "That's good. Send Callie my way as soon as you can, yeah?"

"Yeah, definitely," Owen agreed and he paced out of the room.

Mark remained sitting up in bed, staring off into the hallway, thinking about his people… wondering if Lexie was still fighting, if Derek's blood pressure had gone down at all. He stayed right there on the bed, immobile and helpless until his glass ICU door slid open and Callie Torres, dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, her face etched with worry stepped into the room.

"Hey, Torres," Mark grinned.

"M-Mark!" Callie gasped and she carefully walked over to the chair beside his bed, as if she was afraid that she was going to hurt him. "Oh, God… are you… are you… okay?"

It was a stupid question and it looked like Callie was aware of that but Mark knew she meant it in a good sense. "I guess so. I'm sitting up and talking, aren't I?"

"I guess so," Callie repeated. "Um… can I… can I get you anything? Are you… in pain?"

Mark shrugged. "It's nothing I can't handle. They just let me eat for the first time in five days so that helped. You didn't by any chance bring our daughter here to see me, did you?"

"No, I wasn't sure like… like what condition you were going to be in, you or Arizona… I didn't want to scare her. But she's with Alex Karev back home and she's excited to see you," Callie said.

That made sense. This was not really the appropriate place for a one-year-old; even though Sofia had visited Seattle Grace plenty of times, she did not need to be exposed to additional germs or be surrounded by death and worry.

"Is Arizona okay?" Mark asked.

"I think so. They said she already had one surgery on her leg and that the worst case scenario at this point is amputation… which, honestly, I'm okay with if it's going to save her life," Callie admitted.

"But you haven't seen her yet?"

Callie shook her head. "No, her parents went straight in there to see her a few minutes ago and I wasn't sure if you were going to have anyone. Plus, I mean, Owen said you were waiting for me but…"

"But you should go now," Mark encouraged and Callie gave him an unsure look. "Really, go… I'm doing fine here. I ate some soup and pretty soon I'm gonna take a little nap. She's your wife. Go and see Arizona."

"Thanks, Mark," Callie said and then she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before running back out the door.

Mark pressed the lever on the side of his bed and adjusted it so that he was lying back further. He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep because he was still beyond exhausted. How was Mark supposed to sleep when Lexie was in surgery though? How was Mark supposed to sleep when Derek could have a stroke and stop breathing at any moment?

**MTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTB**

All Cristina could remember from the last 12 hours were bits and pieces… she remembered the relief that pulsed through her body when she saw the chopper descending from the sky. She thought that she recalled fighting Owen in the helicopter. And then the next thing Cristina knew, strangers were wheeling her into the ER but it was not Seattle Grace. She wondered if she had really been rescued at all and Cristina began throwing punches.

Someone must have sedated her because when Cristina woke-up, she was in the ICU with four-point restraints secured around her wrists and ankles. There was a bag of fluids making their way into her body, along with antibiotics and oxygen.

On cue, a resident walked into her room. Cristina knew it was a resident (or an intern) because of the terrified expression on his face. "Hello, Dr. Yang. How are you feeling?"

Cristina did not open her mouth; she honestly was not even sure what the kid had said. It was like his lips were moving but no sound was coming out.

"I'm sorry about the restraints…" the resident continued; he kept on jabbering like Cristina was honestly interested in what he was saying.

How could Cristina pay attention? She had been in a plane crash and her mind was still in the plane crash. Lexie had almost died, or maybe she had died… maybe everyone had died. Cristina tried not to think about what would happen if she was the only one left but she did not have much control over her thoughts. What if Meredith was dead? What if her person was dead… Meredith had given up… Lexie was dying and Derek was dying and Meredith had been screaming… she had wanted to die…

Cristina dozed in and out of consciousness but she could never sleep for long. How could she, when she had no idea if her closest friends were alive? Besides, every time Cristina closed her eyes, she saw the scenes all over again, the scenes that she wanted nothing more than to forget.

Meredith lying on the ground, broken and bloody… Lexie unable to breathe… the wolves in the forest eating Jerry's body… realizing that they were going to run out of water long before they were saved. Cristina squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block out the memories of the bugs nesting themselves in Arizona's leg… of Lexie slipping into a coma… of drinking her own pee to stay conscious and not sleeping for a second for over four days.

_You should sleep now,_ Cristina told herself over and over because she knew she should. She had not slept for four days and now that she was in the hospital and safe, she should sleep. But was she really safe?

How did these horrible things keep happening to her and Meredith… and the hospital in general? Before moving to Seattle, Cristina had been involved in one traumatic experience in her entire life and that was the motor vehicle accident with her father when she was nine.

Since relocating, there had been an active bomb, a near-drowning, and a shooting… there had been Izzie with cancer and George getting run over by a bus. And now there had been a plane crash… Cristina had to get away from Seattle. She had to run away from Seattle Grace Mercy Death while she still could, before some fire or earthquake killed her, too.

Another stranger walked into her hospital room. The man rushed over to Cristina's bedside, disconnected one of her restraints and reached towards her face.

This was what was going to happen now… a psychopath was going to murder her. Cristina jerked her arm up upon reflex and tried with all her might to punch the guy, to fight him off…

It was only after a team of doctors in white coats rushed into the room and repaired the restraint that Cristina realized the truth… the man she had attempted to kill was her husband, Owen Hunt and the tables had been flipped once again. She was the sick one, the one with PTSD.

Cristina doubted that she was ever going to be well again.

_**Sorry for the short chapter but Cristina is traumatized, as we all know, and I didn't think she would have too much to say. I know we haven't heard from Lexie yet either but her chapter will be coming later; she is still in surgery right now! As of now we are going to go back to Meredith's POV.**_

_**Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed and if you did, please don't forget to favorite/follow and review! It means so much to me. Chapter 15 should be coming out on Monday as usual. Love you all. Xoxo, merderpedia :)**_


	15. Crazier

_**Author's Note- Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up, guys! Writing (and editing) is hard. This chapter is another long one though so hopefully that makes up for it. I am going to work on making my chapters longer in general because you guys seem to like that. Okay, I hope you enjoy!**_

_**(Just a reminder- we are back to Meredith's POV.)**_

Exhaustion must have eventually overpowered the wolves and the blood because when Meredith next opened her eyes, there was sunlight peeking through her window blinds. Sleep had come and gone and there was a familiar man sitting in a nearby chair with tears streaming down his face.

"M-Meredith," Thatcher Grey sobbed when he saw that his daughter was awake. "Meredith, I'm… I'm not sure if you want to see me but… but I have to see you… thank God, thank God you're alive."

It was difficult, if not impossible for Meredith to form a thought. Thatcher was here… she figured that he might come to Boise to see Lexie but Meredith could not imagine her father getting this emotional about her unless someone else was watching… and even then, Thatcher was not that great of an actor.

What was Meredith supposed to say? Was she supposed to pretend, too, that she was happy to see him?

There were a set of footsteps from behind and Dr. Vance appeared. "I know you said that you wanted to see someone you knew. It's not technically visiting hours yet but I let your dad in; he was in hysterics and I know you're so close with him, the way you gave him your liver."

"Um…" Meredith muttered.

"Well, I'll give you two some time to catch-up," Dr. Vance smiled and backed out of the room quickly. "But let me know if you need anything!"

Meredith nodded shortly and turned her glance back to Thatcher who was attempting to control himself. "I know… I know you probably want to see someone else but… Meredith, please just… can you say something? Can you let me know that… do you know who I am?"

"I… I know… who you are," Meredith assured him in her choked whisper.

Thatcher looked concerned. "What's wrong with your voice? Does your throat hurt?"

"I'm… I'm okay," Meredith said and this time, Thatcher sighed with relief.

"I still… I can't believe you were in a plane crash and now, I… I can't believe that you're okay. Richard Webber told me you had a head injury and I was praying the whole way here that it wasn't serious. It looks like you're alright though, so that's good."

"Yeah," Meredith said. She was not sure if she was alright; how could she be alright after what they had been through? But at the same time, she was alive…

Thatcher wiped more tears from his face. "So uh… so is Derek okay?"

"I… I don't know. He had really high… b-blood pressure and… um… he had some surgery already but… they're working… on getting… him… stabilized," Meredith said and then she remembered the promise she had made to Lexie. "Thank you for… for coming."

"Oh, God… don't… don't thank me. Of course, I had to come for both you and Lexie. I wanted to see you, Meredith. I wanted you to… to be okay," Thatcher cried.

Again, Meredith nodded; it was all she could think to do. Her thoughts were processing slower than normal, probably due to her concussion, and she was in significantly more pain than she had been last night in the ER. Her morphine was likely wearing off. Meredith's head, back, and ribs were especially sore.

She closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them again when Thatcher touched her shoulder. "Um… what… what are you… d-doing?"

"Sorry," Thatcher apologized. "It's just so good to see you. How are you feeling? Are you in pain?"

"Um… a little… I'm okay," Meredith said. She took a deep breath. She was not sure if she wanted to know but she had to ask sooner or later: "So um… so how's Lexie?"

Thatcher did not say anything and suddenly, Meredith felt like she knew. She knew that her sister was dead, the sister that she finally had grown to love and Meredith could not handle this. She could accept her mother's death, she got through George's, and she survived the shooting but this was too much. Meredith could not handle Lexie's death…

"No…" she whispered and before Thatcher could say anything else, Meredith dissolved into hysterical tears. There was no stopping them even though her father was the last person she wanted to let see her cry.

"Meredith, Meredith," Thatcher said and jumped up. He tried to put hands on his daughter's shoulders but Meredith quickly swatted him away.

"DON'T… TOUCH ME! GET… OUT OF… MY ROOM!" Meredith's voice broke and she started coughing through her sobs.

"No, stop it! It's okay, baby! Lexie isn't dead! Meredith!" Thatcher screamed over all the noise and Meredith gasped to a stop but she still could not speak.

Thatcher reached over onto the side table and poured a fresh cup of water which he handed to his daughter. "There we go… you're okay. Deep breaths, Meredith."

Meredith sipped at the water, inhaled and exhaled, and quieted her coughs. "S-She's not…? Lexie… she's not…? Why… why did you… say it… or… or not say it…"

Thatcher took Meredith's hand; she barely kept herself from pulling away again. "Because it's not good. She's still alive but… but I don't know if she'll… stay alive."

"Then… then you say that. You tell me… Lexie's critical but… b-but alive and… and you don't… answer my… question with… silence because… in the medical… world… that automatically means… someone is dead," Meredith said. "Is she… is she out… of surgery?"

"Yes, but she's gonna need another one. Her doctor, um… Dr. Sheehan, I think… she told me that they did the first stage of Lexie's bone surgeries. They fixed her pelvis and set the bones in her legs and her arm. They were gonna do chest surgery, too; they said she was bleeding near her heart or something… but she started having a hard time so they had to stop. But yeah… Dr. Sheehan said it was a miracle she's still alive at all. It looks like you guys did pretty good out in the woods," Thatcher explained.

"Yeah, we… we used the oxygen… tanks… the ones from… from the plane to… to help her breathing and… had some… tubes so… so we drained some of… her blood," Meredith admitted but then realized that this would not mean much to Thatcher. "How much… was she still… b-bleeding? Did they… close?"

Thatcher shrugged and shook his head. "I don't know. I didn't ask for details; I don't know the surgical language like you do… and honestly, I don't really want to find out until I know she's gonna make it."

_We won't know that for a while,_ Meredith thought but she knew better than to say something like that in front of her father now.

Instead, she took a deep breath and attempted to control her breathing. "Okay… okay, so… you know I'm… I'm okay… now. You can go… be with her… that's… that's… what you… want."

"They won't allow visitors right now because of the risk of infection," Thatcher said. "And that's fine; I'm perfectly fine staying here with you. You sound like you're having a hard time talking or… or breathing. I can tell you're in pain. What can I do?"

It was a strange question; Meredith did not think that her father had ever asked her that question once, not in her life. She tried not to laugh at the absurdity but then winced. "N-Nothing… it's just… um… I b-broke… a few… ribs and… and my head kinda hurts but… but I'm… I'm okay."

"I can get you an ice pack or something," Thatcher offered. "And maybe some food? Are you hungry; do you want me to grab you something from the cafeteria?"

"Um… you should… p-probably talk to… my doctor… about that. I'm not… sure what I'm… allowed to… to have but… yeah, food… that sounds amazing," Meredith said and it looked like Thatcher was glad to do something because he jumped up and ran out into the hallway. Now that he had been sober for almost three years, he was acting more like the person that Susan had described to Meredith when they first met… a caring, sensitive man who often spilled coffee on his shirt.

No matter how much Meredith tried though, she knew that she would never truly think of him as her dad. Meredith could never think of anyone in that way. She would try to be nicer for Lexie, but she still felt the same way as she did when Thatcher's liver originally failed: unfazed about his existence. Meredith did not feel that she would suffer if something happened to Thatcher but she knew that Lexie would… that was why she donated her liver.

Five minutes later, Thatcher returned to his daughter's hospital room. He was followed by a nurse who placed a tray of food in front of Meredith. It contained a small bowl of chicken-broth, some applesauce, and a cup of orange juice.

"I've got you an ice pack, too, Dr. Grey," the nurse said and she tucked the thing under Meredith's hospital gown, on top of her aching ribs. It felt good but at the same time, it made Meredith extremely cold. She shivered.

"Maybe another blanket, too?" Thatcher said to the nurse who nodded and ran off to retrieve it.

Once she was gone, Thatcher sat down again and smiled at his daughter. "You don't feel sick or anything do you? I don't know why they won't give you more. Want me to go buy you a sandwich or something?"

Meredith shook her head as she took a small sip of orange juice. It was the first flavor she had gotten in over five days and she was not sure if she had ever tasted something so wonderful. "No, there's… um… a reason they… d-do this stuff. They don't… want my… my system g-going… into shock."

"Yeah, I guess I should have learned more from your mother when I had the chance," Thatcher said.

It was a weird conversation. Meredith focused on her food. She picked up her spoon and fed herself some chicken-broth; it was hot and comforting. When she looked up again to drink her orange juice, she noticed that Thatcher was still staring at her.

Meredith put her juice down; this was too much. "Are you seriously just… g-gonna sit there and… and w-watch me eat?"

"I don't have anything better to do. I'm not allowed to see Lexie and I'm too nervous to eat. I don't have any other family to update. What do you want me to do?" Thatcher said.

"I don't know… just um… just do something," Meredith begged.

Thatcher glanced at his phone and sighed. "I probably should have brought you something from home but it's not like I could have gone inside your house. Do you want me to go to the gift shop and buy you some pajamas?"

"No, that's okay," Meredith said and then she was sparked with an idea, watching Thatcher look at his phone. "But… but there is… something you could do but… it would… involve you leaving the… hospital and… I don't know if you w-wanna… do that."

"It depends on how far I'd have to go," Thatcher said. "I mean, I'm not allowed to see Lexie anyway and her doctor promised me to call as soon as there's a change."

Meredith nodded. "Yeah, then… could you m-maybe… find a place… near here and buy me a… a new phone? Mine got destroyed… in the… the crash and… I'd pay you back once… we got home."

Thatcher lit up at his new job and nodded. "I can do that. Do you care what kind of phone?"

"Just get um… the newest iPhone. I'll write down my… my account stuff," Meredith said and scratched it quickly on a piece of paper.

"Is that all you need? Do you want a case for it or anything? Some clothes?"

The thought of Thatcher picking out clothes for Meredith was humiliating so Meredith shook her head. Thatcher was about to walk out the door when she called him back. "Hey, um… wait."

"Yeah?"

"Is there anyway… you could buy one… for D-Derek, too? We're on… on the same… account. He would p-pay... you back, too and… and I'd like to… be able to talk...to him," Meredith requested.

Thatcher considered this for a moment but then he smiled. "Of course… I'd be happy to do something for my son-in-law. It's not like there's much I can do; I didn't even get you a wedding gift."

"It's not like… we had a real wedding. We went to… to the courthouse," Meredith said and this was enough for now. Thatcher finally left, off to purchase several iPhones.

Once he was gone though, Meredith realized that she could not wait until Thatcher returned to speak to Derek. She pressed the button on the side of her bed to ask for assistance and almost immediately, a nurse came running in her room. "Yes, Dr. Grey?"

"Hi, could you please… tell me which room my… my husband is in? His name is… Derek Shepherd," Meredith said.

"Um… yes, one moment," the nurse said and disappeared. She came back less than a minute later and reported that Derek was located in room 517. Meredith had no idea what room she was in personally but it had to be close if they were both in the ICU.

Quickly, Meredith pulled the standard phone from her bedside table onto her lap and punched in the numbers: 517. The phone rang once… twice… three times… four times… and then…

"Hello, Carolyn Shepherd speaking."

Meredith froze. It was Derek's mother and although they had gotten along decently thus far, she definitely never meant to call her mother-in-law. "Oh, um… hi, Carolyn… sorry. This is… this is M-Meredith and… I was just wondering if… if I could talk with D-Derek?"

"Meredith," Carolyn sighed and Meredith groaned; there was no getting away now. "Honey, how are you feeling? I'm sorry I haven't gotten the chance to stop by and see you yet."

"It's okay," Meredith said. "I'm feeling okay, mainly… just tired… how is Derek?"

There was a short pause which made Meredith's chest hurt just as much, if not more than it had minutes ago when Thatcher was an idiot. But then Carolyn spoke. "Well, he's… he's in a lot of pain, sweetheart. Has anyone updated you on him yet?"

"N-Not since… not since r-really… early this morning, no. My doctor… told me that… he was in... hand surgery but… that they had to wait... b-because his BP was… so high. They were… they were worried about him… stroking out," Meredith said.

"Yes, well… he did come through the surgery alright, thankfully but apparently there is still a lot of nerve damage to his hand," Carolyn explained. "And he has the minor lacerations to his liver and lung but they weren't able to do too much about that because of his high vitals so they medicated him and then sent him up here, to the ICU. He woke-up a little while ago and talked with me but he was in a lot of pain and had a lot of anxiety so they increased his morphine and he's asleep again."

Meredith nodded. It was not like Carolyn could see her but part of her was relieved; Derek was, at the very least, improving. "Okay… are his vitals… b-better now?"

"His temperature is down to 101 so that's good but his pulse is still 95 and his blood pressure is 174/110," Carolyn reported.

It was like someone had hit Meredith in the chest with a brick and from far away, she heard her own heart monitors begin beeping as her heart rate increased. "That's… that's bad. That's really bad."

"I know and trust me, we are doing everything we can to get the numbers under control," Carolyn said. "Combined with the medicine Derek's on for his bleeding… we know the risks are high."

The risks were so high. Meredith was a doctor and she had been with patients in similar situations. If Derek's heart did not calm down, and if the drugs to control his bleeding kept working, the danger of a stroke would be beyond great. But then again, if the drugs to control Derek's bleeding did not keep working, then the odds of him bleeding out were also large.

Meredith's breathing picked up more. She could not live without Derek. Cristina was her soulmate but Derek was the love of her life… she could not lose him. "Okay, um… okay, can I p-please just… talk to him? Just hold the phone up to… his ear so I can tell him… that… that I love him."

"He knows you love him, Meredith," Carolyn sighed. "Trust me, he knows… during the short time that he was awake this morning, all he kept asking about was you and how you were doing. And we would really prefer to not wake him up right now because if we did, we would be risking the respirations going up and the BP getting out of control again. Before, it went up to 217/135."

_217/135… Derek was a healthy person. 217/135… How was that possible?!_

"Right, um… okay… okay then," Meredith whispered. "By the way… my dad went out to… to buy me a new phone… since mine got destroyed in… in the crash and… and he's gonna… b-buy Derek one, too. So… if he wakes up again later… you can tell him that. And please… do tell him… that I love him."

"I will, Meredith. Thank your father for me when he returns, or I will if I see him in the hallway. He's a good man," Carolyn said.

Meredith did not know how to answer that statement but she took a deep breath and nodded to herself. "Okay… thank you so much… for everything, Carolyn."

"Thank you, Meredith. Take care of yourself."

And then they hung-up. Meredith set down her phone and rolled back over in bed so that she was facing the windows. _217/135…_ she wanted more information. She wanted to hold Derek and feel his heartbeat against her ear… she wanted to know if Lexie was truly holding on or if she had given up in her fight. Meredith wanted to be in on the action, doing what she could because she was a surgeon and it was in her nature to save…

Right now though, Meredith was not a surgeon. She was a patient and her only job was to rest and wait… and wait… and wait…

**MTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTB**

It was a soft knocking sound from nearby that next woke Meredith. Familiar with the noises that frequented a hospital, Meredith initially paid it no attention and attempted to roll over and go back to sleep but her injured ribs prevented her from doing so and it turned out that that was for the best because there was a new, unfamiliar face standing in the doorway. A tall woman with soft, blonde hair had apparently made that sound by knocking on the doorframe.

She was dressed in business-casual attire so she likely was not a doctor- at least not a doctor on duty but she smiled gently at Meredith as she stepped into the room. "Hello, Dr. Grey. My name is Michelle; would you mind if I sat down and talked with you for a little while?"

It was just like when Meredith was first admitted in the emergency department. She tensed up and became anxious because she did not know this person and right now, everything, including strangers, were scary. But it would be rude to refuse; Michelle clearly worked for Boise Memorial; she had an ID and everything so Meredith nodded shortly and tried to sit up into a better, vertical position.

"Here, I can help you out with that," Michelle offered and pressed a few buttons on Meredith's bed to adjust her position. Then she sat down in the chair immediately to Meredith's left, the one that Thatcher had previously occupied. "Okay, Dr. Grey. Like I said, my name is Michelle. I'm one of the trauma counselors here at Boise Memorial. I know you've been through a lot the last few days, to say the least so I just thought I'd start by asking… is there anything in particular that you want to talk about?"

Meredith had suspected that it might be something like this but it still made her heart drop. They were already sending in the shrinks. Could Meredith not have one full day of peace before they started making her talk about her feelings? Thus far, Meredith did not even know what she was feeling.

"Um… you know, I… I have a therapist. Back in Seattle and… and I told them that earlier," Meredith said. "I can go… see her when I… I get home. You can go… counsel someone else."

Michelle smiled, sarcastically. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I know you might not feel like talking yet. But as a doctor, you must realize that you'll have to be cleared by a psychiatrist in addition to your medical team and that talking, or communicating in some form or another, is the only way that you're going to get better."

"And do we… really expect me to… get d-discharged anytime soon?" Meredith asked.

"Well… you're not injured as badly as some of the others. I expect that as long as you keep progressing well, that you should be able to start transitioning back to normal life in a few days," Michelle said and Meredith did not respond.

She was not sure if she was happy or disappointed. Did Meredith want to be released from the hospital? She wanted out of Boise, that was definite but Meredith always felt safer, more in control in medical settings. After fending for herself in the woods for four days, Meredith did not want to worry about taking care of herself or even Zola. To put it plainly, Meredith wanted to stay at Seattle Grace until everyone else was well enough to be discharged, too. But she could not tell any of that to Michelle, her new counselor.

Michelle, who cocked her head at Meredith like a sad puppy. "Dr. Grey? Can you tell me what you're feeling right now?"

"Tired," Meredith said.

"Yes, I'm sure you are. But what about your mental health? How are you feeling mentally, emotionally? I know several of those other doctors that were on the plane are your family. That must have been terribly hard to see them like that out in the forest, injured and alone. How did you deal with it?"

_I didn't deal with it, _Meredith thought to herself. _I kept us alive and now I have no idea how I am personally going to continue living. _It was not like she was actually suicidal but this conversation with Michelle was making everything worse for Meredith who only wanted to forget about the last five days.

"Okay," Michelle finally sighed when she must have realized that her conversation with Meredith was getting nowhere. "Okay, you don't have to talk yet if you don't want to. I'm not going to force anything out of you. But you know how this works in healthcare. I'm going to have to ask you a few, routine questions and you're going to have to answer them. Do you think you can do that for me?"

Meredith knew which questions were coming so she nodded again and sunk down further into the covers.

Michelle grinned; this was progress. "Alrighty, then… first things first. Can you please rate your anxiety for me on a scale of one to ten?"

"Um… eight," Meredith said; she knew it was not as bad as it could be. She was not out in the woods anymore and as of right now, Derek and Lexie were still alive.

"Okay, and what about your depression?" Michelle continued.

"Five," Meredith said.

Michelle marked this down. "Okay, and have you been having any thoughts about wanting to harm yourself or anyone else?"

"No, I'm a doctor. I… I don't hurt… other people… not intentionally, anyway," Meredith said and then paused. "And no, I'm… not suicidal. I'm not g-gonna… hurt myself either."

Personally, Meredith thought this was obvious. She had fought to keep herself alive for four days out in the woods. The pain, now that she had been rescued, was worse than ever, but she was not going to throw away all that work and kill herself. Meredith was not a quitter. She watched as Michelle smiled softly and then also wrote down this answer.

"Have you been seeing or hearing anything that it seems like other people can't see or hear?"

"Nope, no… psychosis," Meredith confirmed and then hesitated. "B-But… I did have some… out in the woods. I think it was m-mostly… cause of my… my dehydration but I saw… birds that… I don't think were really there and… and I saw orange stuff…"

"What kind of orange stuff?" Michelle asked.

Meredith shrugged. "I… I don't know. It was just… swirls and p-patterns."

"Okay, well… I probably don't need to tell you that some mild hallucinations are perfectly common when one has gone without fluids for a long period of time," Michelle said. "All the same, I do think it may be a good idea for you to visit your psychiatrist back home and talk about possibly getting some medication for anxiety or sleep, or both. You can't recover from surgery in one day and you can't recover from trauma that quickly either. Take your time, Dr. Grey and try not to push yourself. You have survived a major, life-altering accident and that in itself is good enough for now."

It was a typical speech that Meredith had heard lots of times before… from doctors, and therapists, and nurses. Still, she nodded because she knew that Michelle's intentions were good. "Can I go… b-back to sleep… now?"

"You can very shortly. I do want to tell you one last thing and that's that there are a lot of people outside who want to see you. I know you've been visiting with your father already but there are friends, co-workers… I'm not sure, maybe some extended family. Too many people all at once after a trauma can be triggering but I just wondered if you felt comfortable seeing anyone?"

There was not any biological family that Meredith had left other than her father, Lexie, and maybe her other sister, Molly and Meredith had never even met the latter, not properly. She could guess who the people outside were… her usual crew from Seattle Grace… Richard and Bailey specifically came to mind.

The entire time that Meredith had been out in the woods, she would have given anything to see any one of her co-workers but now, Meredith was just not in the mood for pretending to be okay. She did not want Richard or Bailey to see her like this either.

"No, um… not right now," Meredith said. "Not… unless… can I see m-my… my husband? Or my sister?"

Michelle hesitated. "Well, I do think that your treatment team is trying to keep you in bed for right now."

"P-Please," Meredith begged. "Please, I… the last time I… I saw them, I… I didn't even know if… if they were alive. Just… just put me in a… wheelchair. I won't try to… get up. Just let me… see Derek."

This was obviously having an effect on Michelle who was under the impression that Meredith was beginning to open up. She considered this statement some more and then paced out of the room and when she came back, a young, red-headed nurse was lagging behind.

"Okay, we're going to do this nice and slowly, alright, Dr. Grey?" Michelle said and Meredith nodded eagerly. "And you're going to have to wait outside of your husband's room because they don't want to wake him up; that's when his pulse gets too high. But you can see him and… and see that he's alive. I'm sure that would be good for you."

Meredith agreed wholeheartedly. And for once, she was a good patient, sitting quietly and allowing herself to be lifted by several nurses into a wheelchair that was waiting nearby. Meredith was still hooked up to several different machines but they were portable and Michelle assisted in transporting them onto the IV pole attached to the wheelchair.

Out in the hallway, just outside of her ICU room, all of the Seattle Grace employees were waiting, just like Michelle had said. Richard and Bailey were there along with Callie, Owen, and a woman that Meredith faintly recognized as Cristina's mother.

Bailey jogged alongside Meredith's wheelchair. "I swear, Meredith Grey, you cannot keep doing this to us. Your class of interns has wrecked havoc on our entire hospital."

Bailey was being sarcastic and Meredith knew she was supposed to laugh or at least smile but she could not force herself to do either. She heard Michelle say in response, "I'm sorry, Miranda, but Dr. Grey told me that she really is not up for visitors right now. We're only bringing her out here so she can see Dr. Shepherd."

Seconds later, the wheelchair came to a halt outside of ICU room 517. Meredith leaned forward and for the first time in almost 24 hours, laid eyes on her husband. To say that Derek could look better was an understatement. He was lying flat on his back, a surgical bandage similar to Meredith's wrapped around his head. Derek's left arm was completely covered by a huge cast and his body was fragile, pale, and dotted with lacerations, blood, and wires.

Meredith tried to take a deep breath but it was like her lungs had forgotten how to inhale. She had not cried since the plane crash, not really, but she felt her eyes fill with tears. She could not cry… Meredith willed herself not to cry; that would be admitting defeat.

Suddenly, there was a light touch to the top of Meredith's head, a hand stroking her hair. She flinched so badly that she almost disconnected one of her heart monitors and then turned around to see that Bailey and Richard her joined her in watching Derek, against Michelle's orders. It had been Richard that had touched Meredith's hair. Even though Meredith could never think of anyone as a father figure, she knew that Richard continued to think of her as the daughter he never had.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, maybe for making Meredith flinch, or maybe for a whole lot more.

Another set of footsteps joined them; Michelle was back. "Dr. Webber… Dr. Bailey… I'm sorry but I am going to have to ask you to step away from Dr. Grey for now. We have to consider her boundaries and if she does not feel comfortable enough to have visitors, then that is something we have to respect."

Richard quickly did as he was told but before Bailey could go anywhere, Meredith managed to choke out, "B-Bailey can stay."

"Are you sure, Dr. Grey?" Michelle asked and Meredith nodded so she backed off as well.

Meredith was left alone with Bailey who took over for Webber and stroked her student's hair, gently as they watched Derek. "Well… his BP is better. It's still high but it's better. 168 over 98… pulse is 101. He's asleep so… it doesn't appear that he's in too much pain."

"T-That's good," Meredith whispered and before she could help it, the waterworks were running; they spilled down her face, silently.

Bailey sighed and knelt down next to her wheelchair. "I know, sweetie. I know, it's…"

"No, you don't," Meredith interjected. She wanted to say so much about how Bailey was not there and about how it was Meredith that had been trapped in the woods for four days with her loved ones but she could barely speak so all she said was, "N-No, you don't… you… you have no idea…"

There was another pause as Bailey thought about this and then she nodded. "Okay, I don't know. I don't know what you are going through currently but I have been in a similar situation. In case you don't remember, there was a day during your intern year where there was a Code Black at Seattle Grace. You, idiotically, put your hand inside a human body that day, on top of an active bomb. That same day, I was in labor with Tuck and my ex-husband, Tucker got in a car accident on the way to the hospital. Your husband saved him. But I have seen my husband, a man that I loved very much, in critical condition and I do know what that's like."

Meredith remembered all of that. She did not have to be reminded. She had had more than enough traumatic experiences in her lifetime and that was why all of her friends always called her _dark and twisty_. But it was like this one had broken her.

Two years ago, after the shooting, Meredith was okay, relatively speaking. She did not know why; maybe it had something to do with the fact that she had survived a lot of other dramas. It had been Cristina that suffered from PTSD for months on end.

Cristina was certainly traumatized again but Meredith was too, and she did not think that she could fight anymore. She did not think that she could walk around, pretending like everything was okay because it was not okay… even if Lexie and Derek both miraculously lived, Meredith had jabbed a knife into her sister's chest… she had crushed Derek's hand with a rock… she had watched Jerry be torn to pieces by a pack of wolves… it was her fault…

_I don't know if I wanna be a surgeon anymore,_ Meredith thought to herself and when Bailey looked at her, realized that she had said this out loud.

"Well, lucky for you, you don't have to know that right now," Bailey said. "One way or another, you are not going to be operating on anyone for a very long time. Right now, your only responsibility is to rest, and get better, and be there for your loved ones. You can figure out your future career moves once we're back in Seattle and everyone is stable."

It was a typical Bailey speech. Meredith knew that her mentor was right but she still could not bring herself to discuss the matter. Instead, she glanced in the opposite direction. Across the hall, she could see Thatcher and Richard, an unlikely duo, sharing a conversation.

"I think that's enough for now," Bailey continued after a moment. "You've seen Derek; you know that he's alive. Let's get you back to bed."

"Can I… can I see Lexie?" Meredith asked. "I… I don't have to… to go in her room either. I just… I want to see… that she's alive."

"Not right now," Bailey said. "Lexie had her first surgery earlier today and they're getting ready to bring her back down to the OR soon to finish things up. You can see her tomorrow; she'll still be alive then."

That was not necessarily true and Bailey had to know that, as a surgeon; no one except for God could promise a good outcome in an operation and, as Dr. Burke used to say, _I don't often see Him around holding scalpels. _

Meredith was unable to voice her concerns though, not without totally breaking down into a bundle of tears so she cleared her throat. "Um… so… so what happened in the first surgery?"

Bailey began pushing Meredith back to her own room as she explained: "In the first surgery, the extremely talented Dr. Sheehan and her team set Lexie's tibia and pelvis. They performed some minor skin grafts on her right shoulder and set her arm. They started to patch up the… the tamponade and drain the excess blood but she was starting to go into respiratory distress so they had to stop. They're going back in now because the stress on her heart has begun to… to cause some minor problems in her lungs."

That was likely only half the story. Meredith was a surgeon, too, and she knew that when the patients were still alive, all doctors tried to give family members a more positive outlook so they did not lose hope. Lexie probably had blood clots in her lungs and was being rushed to the OR for a full thoracotomy.

This was too much. This was entirely too much… if Lexie had died on the scene, if she had suffered a massive hemothorax or something along those lines… it would have been awful but Meredith could have accepted it. She could not deal with this; she could not go this far and then lose both Derek and Lexie inside of Boise Memorial Hospital.

"Well, here we are," Bailey said once they arrived back at Meredith's bed. "You may not be critical but you still need to get your rest. And you can add plane crash to the list of things you've survived."

Meredith sat still again as Bailey and two nurses helped lift her from the wheelchair back onto her mattress. Her ribs were throbbing painfully from all the movement so she took a minute to catch her breath and while she did, she concluded that she did not want Lexie to have surgery here. Boise Memorial was not a bad hospital but they were not a top-ten medical center. There was a reason that Owen had sent a team of surgeons there in the first place, to assist with conjoined twins.

"D-Do you think… is there any way… we could get Lexie… transferred back home?" Meredith asked.

"Right now?" Bailey raised her eyebrows and sat down in the single chair positioned next to Meredith's bed. "I don't think now is the best time for something like that. Everyone needs to stabilize further and Lexie needs this surgery sooner rather than later."

Yes, Meredith was right; Lexie was bleeding out. "She needs the… the best general surgeons in the area and… and I don't think those p-people… are here. Can… can you go… get privileges?"

Bailey hesitated; maybe she had not thought of this idea yet or maybe she had and there was a reason why it was not allowed. Maybe Lexie was already dead. "I… can go see if they think they need any assistance. Are you going to be okay here for a few minutes?"

All Meredith had wanted for the last few hours was to be left alone so she nodded and Bailey disappeared out the door. To Meredith's disappointment, though, she returned only five minutes later and she was carrying a small bag with handles; it looked like she had gone shopping.

"So?" Meredith asked, praying that the contents of Bailey's shopping bag were a set of scrubs from Boise Memorial Hospital.

"Richard is going to scrub in and help with Lexie's surgery and Dr. Sheehan does not anticipate needing anymore hands. If she does, then she can page me but in the meantime, I'm going to stay right here and keep you company," Bailey explained.

_Great, _Meredith thought to herself and she sighed out of frustration. She knew that Bailey was trying to be helpful and she did appreciate her mentor because Meredith had been alone in the woods for so long. But the part of Meredith that was growing darker and twistier by the hour was wondering if Lexie's situation was really so simple that Dr. Sheehan did not need any additional help or if it was a lost cause.

Trying to ignore the thoughts, Meredith searched her brain for a new topic. "W-What's in the bag?"

"Oh, right… I forgot," Bailey said and handed the bag over to Meredith. "I just saw your father. He asked me to bring you this. He would have brought it himself but since Lexie is headed for surgery, he's talking through a bunch of stuff with her team of doctors."

Inside of the bag was a small box that contained a brand-new iPhone. Meredith had doubted Thatcher's ability to get the right one but this looked like it was the correct model.

"Thank you," Meredith said. She opened the box and turned on the phone so that she could begin recovering all of her lost contacts. It was not like they could be transferred over from a phone that had been burned to pieces. "Can I borrow your phone so… so I can get… my numbers?"

They had mostly the same contacts so Bailey handed her device over. As the former Chief Resident, Bailey had the numbers of almost every employee at Seattle Grace in her phone and that was 99 percent of who Meredith ever wanted to call. Bailey even happened to have Thatcher's contact information, probably in case of emergency when it came to Meredith and Lexie.

It was hard to believe that less than 24 hours ago, all six surgeons were still in the forest, burning with fevers and fighting for their lives. It felt like they remained in the woods at times, yet it also seemed like an eternity ago because Meredith could barely remember what it was like to hold a normal conversation with anyone. As she entered Derek, Cristina, Lexie, Thatcher, Richard, and Bailey into her phone, Meredith sat there on her bed, Bailey by her side, completely silent. Maybe neither of them were quite sure what to say.

Quietly, Meredith added Alex, Callie, Arizona, and Owen to her contacts. She tried not to wonder how Lexie was holding up.

If Meredith had not seen what she had in the last few days, she might not have been so scared but she had spoken with Lexie before she entered her coma. Even on their second and third days in the woods, Lexie had been losing hope, saying that she mainly just wanted to see her mom again and quit fighting. Meredith had talked her into believing for the time being but one could rarely survive a surgery if they wanted to die beforehand.

Lexie could not die. Lexie was the constant in all the other messy, dramatic, and heartbreaking situations at Seattle Grace. She was the naturally happy one, the girl that had grown-up in a loving family with smiley-face posters on her bedroom walls. Lexie had graduated high school as both prom queen and valedictorian; she had a photographic memory and from the moment that Meredith had met her sister, even if she did not want to admit it at the time, she had known that Lexie was going to be an extraordinary surgeon.

That could not all go to waste due to a faulty plane engine or whatever the hell it had been… if it did, then the last memories from home that Meredith would have of Lexie would consist of her crying over boys and babysitting Zola; that was not who Lexie was…

The time seemed to drag on, several eternities on top of each other. Meredith knew that she should be happy now that she was safe in a hospital but she did not feel safe here, not like she would back at Seattle Grace. Here, she felt stationary, useless, away from the action… she wanted to get up and help with Lexie's surgery or at least learn what was happening but she could not stand without help and another piece of Meredith simply wanted to lie in bed forever.

Bailey stayed by her side, sitting in one of the ICU recliners and dozing in and out throughout the evening. Thatcher stopped by once to check on his eldest daughter but when he did, Meredith pretended to be asleep. She did not want to deal with his fake compassion when they both knew all he wanted was to go and wait for news on Lexie.

At 7:00, a lot of the normal ICU visitors were being kicked-out because according to the signs on the hospital walls, visiting hours had come to an end. Special permission was given to the friends and family of the plane crash victims though and Meredith noticed that Bailey, along with a lot of the other Seattle Grace crew members wore stickers on their clothes that read, "SGH-VIP".

"It means that we're special and that we get extra favors because of our pristine surgical technique," Bailey said when Meredith asked, although according to Callie, who stopped by during the mid-afternoon, this was Boise Memorial's method of determining who could be told what information about which patients.

If any individual, doctor or not, wore a sticker that read "SGH-VIP", it meant that they could be updated about any of the Seattle Grace surgeons' conditions.

It was past 8:00 when there was a new knock on Meredith's door frame. She expected a nurse or a resident, here to switch out her IV bags or take her vitals again, like they had been doing throughout the day but instead, her heart leaped when she saw Richard. Lexie's surgery must have come to an end.

"R-Richard…" Meredith whispered; she intended to say more, so much more but her voice had disappeared.

"We were able to close. The cardiac tamponade had a relatively slow bleed; that's the only reason Lexie lived this long," Dr. Webber explained. "Unfortunately, the trauma Lexie sustained had caused an infection that spread deeper than we were aware of, initially. We were forced to perform a pericardial window and take out a portion of her left lung."

_A pericardial window… a portion of Lexie's left lung… _Meredith had seen those procedures before; she had even assisted in the operations but when it was her little sister on the table, everything was as scary as it would be to someone uneducated in medicine.

"Okay," she forced herself to say. "So… um… where do you think things… stand? Do you think… in your p-professional opinion…?"

Webber thankfully appeared to understand what Meredith was trying to ask so he took over. "For now, we are going to keep Lexie in a medically-induced coma. She's allergic to almost all opioids so if she were to awaken right now, all that would happen is she would experience unbearable pain and possibly damage herself further. We have to let her body heal itself but… as long as her vitals remain stable, she should be ready to regain consciousness in anywhere from three days to two weeks."

Bailey put a big smile on her face. "That's good, Grey! That's good; Lexie's hanging in there."

"Okay," Meredith repeated. She knew that it could be worse but nothing was definite and she felt like if she let herself believe that Lexie was out of the woods, everything would change drastically.

Either way, the exhaustion that Richard must have experienced throughout the last few hours and days was evident on his face. He turned towards Bailey. "I'm going to lay down in the on-call room across the hall; Sheehan said it was alright. I'll be there if you need anything. If you want to swap-out staying with Meredith, wake me up in… I don't know, a few hours."

"Roger that, sir," Bailey agreed and then exhaled like she was relieved, too and spun back around to Meredith. "If you don't want me here, Grey; I don't have to stay but most of the other… um, survivors have someone with them tonight. Cristina's mother is here, Arizona has her parents, and Callie is with Mark. Derek's mom is with him… and based on the situation, you must understand why your father is choosing to be with Lexie."

Meredith was not sure if she understood but it did not matter because she certainly did not want Thatcher there. "Yeah, I know. And honestly, I… I don't really care. I just want to… to go to sleep."

"Then go ahead and sleep, honey," Bailey said and Meredith attempted to ignore how strange it was to hear Bailey call her _honey. _"I'll be right here next to you if you need anything."

"Just… just try not to… stare at me," Meredith requested and then closed her eyes. But as soon as she did, she was reminded of the images… of Lexie trapped underneath the plane wreckage, and Derek vomiting blood and Meredith hallucinating so she opened her eyes again and looked at Bailey. "Are they… giving me… d-drugs?"

Bailey smirked, sadly. "What kind of drugs? Pain medication?"

"Yeah or… or just something to… knock me out," Meredith said.

"You are getting some low-dose opioids to help with your rib and head pain but I can see about getting you some Trazodone or something as well," Bailey said and she took out her pager. "Also, you'll be pleased to know that a fundraiser has been started by Arizona's parents. It appears that all of the plane crash victims' medical bills will be covered so… so that's one less thing you'll have to worry about."

"That's good… that's nice, I mean of… whoever donated," Meredith said and smiled weakly.

"Yes, and they're working on removing the aircraft from the forest as well. There will be an investigation, of course, on what caused the plane to crash in the first place. There is a chance that it will result in some serious cash for everyone involved."

"Right, um… okay," Meredith said. In truth, she did not care about money. She would already be making a decent amount of money as an attending surgeon and she would trade all the money in the world if it could reverse time and allow the plane to fly to Boise safely.

Because even if Lexie and Derek lived, Jerry was dead. And even if Jerry had lived, everyone that had been in the forest for four days would be forever traumatized. Meredith was not sure if she would ever be able to insert a chest tube again without thinking of Lexie and her pneumothorax. She would never be able to treat a patient suffering from cardiac tamponade.

Most importantly, Meredith knew for a fact that flying on a plane from now on would be terrifying, if not impossible and that if Owen Hunt honestly expected her to get on an aircraft and be flown back to Seattle, like some people were speculating, then he was just as crazy as Cristina.

_**I know that was super long but there was really no good way to separate the chapters without making them super short and you guys don't seem to like that lol. I hope you enjoyed and if you did, please don't forget to favorite/follow and review! **_

_**Also, I just want to say… I know I've said it before but I know this story is angsty and traumatic. I know there hasn't been excessive MerDer yet or any fluff but to be honest, I'm just not that kind of writer. Yes, there will be fluff and MerDer eventually but I just really enjoy writing stories with actual plots and above all, the point of this story is to create a realistic storyline of trauma recovery. Because let's be honest, we never got that in the show. And throughout all the suffering and pain, I think that some really beautiful moments can be created in the midst of that… MerDer comforting one another, for example, is one of my favorite things to write. And soon they will be given that opportunity! **_

_**Love you all. Thanks for reading. Xoxo, merderpedia :)**_


	16. Run to the Hills

_**Author's Note- Hi everyone! :) Welcome back. Just so you know, the first part of this chapter is told from Derek's POV and the second half is Meredith's POV. It is rather dramatic and angsty but this should be the last "scary" chapter for MerDer stans like myself. Enjoy! **_

_**(I don't own the show "Grey's Anatomy"... If I did, Slexie would still be alive and MerDer would be eternal.)**_

Roughly two years ago, a mad, grieving widower had unleashed his fury on Seattle Grace Mercy West Hospital and in the aftermath of the shooting, Derek realized that he had never genuinely appreciated morphine. Never once had Derek truly known how amazing it was, and why so many patients turned to stronger stuff such as heroin when they ran out… not until he was recovering from a gunshot wound and in indescribable pain.

However, there was a possibility that in those two years since Derek had last been trapped in the ICU, he may have forgotten how wonderful morphine was, because now that he was recovering from a plane crash, he was awed all over again.

Thanks to the morphine, Derek slept most of his full day in Boise. He was surprised with a short visit from his mother but then his blood pressure had become elevated and he fell back into unconsciousness.

Derek woke-up a few times overnight whenever the nurses would come to take his vitals or adjust his medications but those instances were brief and blurry. All Derek knew was that he was afraid because he kept hearing the doctors whispering words like _septic_ and _stroke_ and Derek was supposed to be a doctor, not a patient… he was the neurosurgeon; he could not have a stroke…

And then suddenly, Derek was awake. Sunlight was shining through the windows of his hospital room and he was greeted with a fresh onslaught of pain, throbs that were coursing through his entire body, making it impossible to sleep.

With what little energy he could muster, Derek slid his good hand over to the side of his bed and rammed his fingers onto the call button. Within seconds, a nurse with bright red hair made her way into his room. There was something odd about her; she reminded Derek of his ex-wife, Addison.

"Good morning, Dr. Shepherd. How are you feeling today?" the redhead asked.

"Hurts…" Derek moaned and motioned towards his IV. "Can't you… can't you give me… m-more… m-morphine?"

"We can very shortly," the redhead replied. "Dr. Olson wanted to speak with you today before we administer the pain medications though because whenever we do, it seems that you immediately fall unconscious."

Derek nodded shortly. "Yeah, okay… just… make it fast."

"Right away, Dr. Shepherd," the redhead agreed and she walked back out of the room.

Less than five minutes later, the door swung open again and this time, the familiar face of Seth Olson smiled its way inside. "How are we feeling today, Derek?"

"Not… g-great," Derek admitted even though he remembered the aftermath of getting shot and he knew that the day after surgery was usually the toughest.

"I know and I'm sorry to hear that. We'll try and make you as comfortable as possible but you're going to have to stay here for at least a few more days," Seth said. "Can I get you anything? Do you feel like maybe eating some breakfast?"

Derek knew that he should eat because he had not consumed anything in over five days. Ever since coming to the hospital in Boise, he had been receiving nutrients intravenously but it would be good if he could actually get food in his stomach.

"I… I guess I can… try," Derek said. "Can I… see my wife… do you think?"

"I will go and see if she's awake and up for visiting," Seth said and he left, too.

Meredith must have been feeling alright because another five minutes later, the door opened for a third time and Derek looked up to see his wife being pushed inside on a wheelchair, Richard Webber behind her. The latter did not cause much fuss; he simply left Meredith next to Derek's bed and then scampered out of the room, not wanting to be around for a potentially romantic conversation.

"Hi," Meredith said and Derek felt her warm, soft hand touch his own. "You look better."

That had to be a lie because Derek did not feel better and he knew that he could not look good either. But he went along with it. "Yeah, um… thanks… you, too."

"Did you hear about Lexie?" Meredith asked.

"W-What happened… to Lexie…?"

"She was just… in surgery, all day yesterday," Meredith said. "They stabilized her bones and cleaned up her chest wound… but then the bleeding got worse and she got an infection. They had to crack her chest, do a thoracotomy… pericardial window… they took out part of her left lung. They're keeping her in a medically-induced coma for now but they think that she might be able to come out of it in a few days."

Never in his life had Derek felt so useless. At least during the shooting, when Derek had been recovering, Meredith was uninjured, or so he had thought at the time. It was not until several months later that Derek learned about his wife's miscarriage. Still, right now, it was heartbreaking to watch Meredith talk as if she was describing an ordinary patient's condition but with tears in her eyes and fear in her voice. Derek wanted to do something, to comfort her.

"Oh, God, no… I'm… I'm so sorry… Mer," Derek whispered.

"Don't be… she's not dead. Webber helped with her surgery," Meredith said.

Just then, the door opened for a fourth time. The same redheaded nurse that was here moments before walked inside with a tray in her outstretched hands. Meredith took the tray for Derek and then placed it on the adjustable table in front of his bed.

"I think this is everyone's first meal when they get rescued. It's what I had, too," Meredith said and Derek looked down to see a small bowl of chicken broth, some applesauce, and a glass of orange juice.

"It uh… it looks good," Derek said but that was a lie. He was not sure why but the meal did not look good at all and that was coming from someone who had not eaten a bite in over five days. Normally even hospital food would be appetizing by this point.

Starting off slowly, Derek reached forward and grasped the cup of juice firmly in his good hand. Bringing the glass to his lips alone required a lot of strength and then swallowing the liquid was more work.

"It's amazing to have flavor again, isn't it?" guessed Meredith.

"Yeah," Derek lied again and took a deep breath. He was beginning to feel slightly nauseous and he was not sure why… nausea was a common side-effect when first coming out of anesthesia or when starting a painkiller such as morphine but Derek was doing neither.

Meredith must have been able to sense that her husband was in pain though, in some form or another; she scooted closer to the bed and rubbed his hair gently. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I mean… I mean, none of us are… really okay, are we?" Derek said and tried to control his breathing. "We're… we're in a plane crash…"

"Not anymore… we were in a plane crash but… but now we're in a hospital and… and don't worry. We're going to get your hand fixed. You're going to operate again," Meredith insisted.

But for once, that was not at all what Derek was thinking about… he pushed the rest of his food away, hastily. "Mer, I… I need you to… to go get… Dr. Olson."

"What's wrong?" Meredith asked, alarm in her voice.

"I'm not sure but… but something's wrong. I feel… really sick and it's like… there's a lot of pain through my… my abdomen," Derek said.

Meredith's face was lined with worry. She stood up- she was clearly feeling better- and slowly made her way to the doorway; Derek heard her yell, "Page Olson 911!"

_911… am I dying?_ Derek thought but that was stupid. He was not dying; he was being dramatic without his morphine and nauseous for some unknown reason.

"It's okay; he's coming," Meredith said seconds later when she returned to Derek's bedside and her warm hand touched his again; another hand stroked his forehead. "You're okay… I know you're not coding or anything but I had him paged 911 just so he'd get here…"

But suddenly, Meredith's explanation was interrupted. It was like someone had punched Derek in the stomach. He lurched forward and vomited onto Meredith's hand, across his entire bed. He was gagging and gasping and could not catch his breath and it was only when Meredith was screaming for help and the nurses were running inside that Derek realized his vomit had been bright red… he was vomiting blood…

Dr. Olson arrived just in time, just as Derek was continuing to throw-up into a basin that Meredith had retrieved for him. "It's the blood thinners. Derek, you're bleeding out. We need to get you to surgery right away."

_Bleeding out… I am dying,_ Derek thought. _I'm dying and Meredith is going to watch me die…_

The ICU was filling with what seemed like dozens more people. Owen was here; he was guiding Meredith away and it sounded like Webber who was standing nearby, pushing an oxygen mask onto Derek's face. His voice was there, strong and comforting. "Stay calm; you're going to be fine…"

Everything was rushing by in a blur. Derek was in the ICU and then he was in an elevator and then he was on the surgical floor. He was so cold; he could practically feel the blood draining from his vital organs… _Derek was lying on the Seattle Grace catwalk, blood spewing from the bullethole in his chest… _

"Hold the door!" Webber screamed at someone beyond Derek's range of vision. "We need this OR right now! Not in an hour… RIGHT NOW!"

"Get the crash cart!" someone else ordered and for some reason, Derek did not think that the crash cart was being requested for a different patient. Webber would not be kicking someone else out of an OR if they were on the brink of cardiac arrest. Something had gone drastically wrong in his own care and Derek was going to die…

The doors buzzed open and the team of doctors and nurses sprinted into the OR, pushing Derek in his gurney as they went. Derek had a feeling that he briefly lost consciousness because he did not remember how he had gotten onto the table at all but here he was and there was Webber, finished scrubbing, and somewhere nearby, the anesthesiologist was ready for sedation…

"W-Wait…" Derek begged, coughing and choking on his own blood as he spoke.

"Derek, we can't wait. We have to get you open right now; you're bleeding into your lungs. You're drowning in your own blood," Webber said. "Don't worry. Everything is going to be fine. I'm going to do everything I can."

"Wait…" Derek repeated and cleared his mouth just long enough to whisper, "P-Please tell… tell M-Meredith… I love her…"

"You can tell her that yourself once you wake-up after surgery," Webber said. "And don't you go thinking like that before you go under… you're okay; you know I've seen worse and…"

Derek thought that Webber continued talking. It was not like him to just cut off mid-sentence but his voice faded away. The familiar sights and sounds and smells of the OR disappeared and Derek was left alone in a blur of blackness and fear… he was never going to see Meredith or Zola again…

**MTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTB**

"Meredith, what can I do? What can I do, baby girl?"

That was probably the thousandth time that Thatcher Grey had asked his daughter those same questions, all in the last half-hour. For the first time in almost 24 hours, he had left Lexie's side and instead come to sit with his eldest child but not for any good reason.

Meredith was sitting up in bed, staring across her room in the ICU with a blank, lifeless expression on her face. Her eyes were dead, her brain attempting with all its might to block out what it had seen thus far today but that was impossible because as Meredith had learned numerous times throughout her life, bad memories surpassed good ones. It was much easier to recall the worst moments of your life than it was to think about the best.

Today had started out good, too… or at least as good as possible. Meredith had woken up feeling physically stronger and as a result, managed to order and eat a piece of french toast and an apple for breakfast.

Dr. Carson had given Meredith permission to get out of bed and ambulate to the restroom as needed. She never imagined that she would be so happy to be able to use the bathroom by herself but it was glorious and finally, Meredith had even gotten a little bit of alone time with Webber, Bailey, and Thatcher all occupied with other patients.

In mid-morning, Dr. Olson, Derek's doctor had peeked into her ICU room and asked if Meredith would be willing to go visit her husband. That was an easy decision to make; Meredith eagerly got into a wheelchair and allowed Webber to push her down the hall. It was so good to see Derek even if he was in pain. It was good to update him about the others and hold his hand…

And then everything had gone to pieces. Derek was going pale and he was asking for help which was so unlike him. Right after Meredith had yelled for Dr. Olson, Derek had begun vomiting blood and he had to be rushed off to surgery. Meredith, understandably, had lost it completely and it took Owen and Bailey together to hold her back as she screamed and cried.

Now Meredith was back in bed because she knew that there was nothing she could personally do for Derek at the moment; he was in surgery. And here was her father, sitting next to her, begging for a response, calling her _baby girl_ and pretending like he was a loving father…

Well, okay… to be fair, Thatcher was a father and he did love Lexie and Molly. Maybe he loved Meredith, too, but no matter how much she faked it, Meredith knew that she would never be able to honestly call him _Dad_, to think of him as her parent.

"Meredith," Thatcher repeated for the millionth time. "Meredith, you know this is taking a lot for me but Richard Webber is an incredible surgeon and you know that. I'm sure he'll be able to fix Derek without any problems at all."

Meredith did not reply. She continued staring at her television but she could not have told anyone what was showing if they asked. She was thinking only of Derek and the way that she had frozen on the first day of her intern year when she realized that her one-night-stand was actually an attending neurosurgeon…

"Can I get you anything, baby girl? Do you want me to… to get you some anxiety medicine?" Thatcher offered.

"I want you to go away," Meredith finally managed to say and she did not regret her words.

"But… don't get me wrong, Meredith, I will, I will but… don't you think you maybe need…"

"I don't need anything besides… besides someone to tell me that my husband is going to be alright. If you can't give that to me, you need to leave the room, go back with Lexie, and hope that I don't call security on you," Meredith said and thankfully, Thatcher did as he was told.

It was not fair. What had Derek ever done to deserve this? Meredith had made plenty of mistakes in her life and alright, Derek had as well; he was not perfect. But he was a good and decent man with honorable intentions. He wanted to do good in work, life, and everything in between. If someone had to die, it should be Meredith because if Zola was going to be half-orphaned, it was doubtlessly Derek that would make a better parent.

Thatcher had been gone and Meredith had been alone for almost a half hour when the latter picked up her new iPhone and scrolled through her contacts. She had no clue at all why she was doing this but if Derek was really going to die, she felt an obligation to be a good person, too.

Addison Montgomery answered hesitantly. "...Hello? Er… I mean… this is Dr. Addison Montgomery; how can I help you?"

"Hi, Addison. It's Meredith."

"Meredith," Addison repeated, sounding stunned. "I saw your name on… well, I saw you and Derek on… I'm so glad both of you are alright."

There was a good chance that this was an exaggeration. Addison was a decent person as well, so she probably was not wishing for Meredith's death but Meredith was and always would be the dirty mistress who stole Addison's husband. Meredith was not sure if she could truthfully pray for that woman's survival if she was in Addison's place.

But now was not the time to mention that. Meredith took a deep, shaky breath in an effort to minimize her tears and then whispered, "D-Derek's… he's going… to die."

There was a long pause, a silence that spoke a thousand words and then Addison's voice returned, shaky and soft. "...Are you sure? What happened? I saw, I read… he was critical but stable…"

"They were keeping his bleeding under control with Aprotinin but… but they had to take him off of it, I think because his BP was too high. He was going to stroke out. He started vomiting blood, bleeding out and… and he's in surgery with Webber right now," Meredith said.

"Okay," Addison agreed, in a monotone. "Okay, well… that does not mean he's going to die, Meredith. You know as well as I do that Richard Webber is one of the greatest surgeons in the country, possibly even the world."

Meredith did not reply; she knew that Addison would understand. Sometimes, even when the odds pointed in a certain direction, it was simply impossible to be comforted and this was one of those situations.

Luckily, Addison seemed to interpret this and sighed. "Keep me updated, okay? Let me know if I need to get on a helicopter."

"I will," Meredith said and then she hung-up just as her door was inched open.

Ever since Thatcher had been kicked out, no one had been inside to visit Meredith and that was no coincidence. Even in her catatonic state of shock and grief, Meredith had heard a few voices out in the hallway- Bailey's, possibly- instructing visitors to give Meredith her space. Now, though, someone was defying those orders and Meredith cleared her throat, prepared to scream at whoever thought they were special enough to change her outlook.

Carolyn Shepherd walked inside, her face pale and eyes red. Meredith had only met Derek's mother three times before- and then spoken to her on the phone yesterday- but at moments like these, it was like they had known each other forever.

Meredith forced a small, broken smile onto her face that she hoped portrayed her feelings- her feelings of guilt, for getting Derek involved in another life-threatening situation and her feelings of relation because they both desired the same thing.

"Sweetie," Carolyn said and suddenly rushed over to her daughter-in-law's bedside where she embraced Meredith in a hug. "Sweetheart, I know I told you before but I have to tell you again… I am so glad that you're alright."

"Um… you are?" Meredith found herself asking.

"Of course I am. You're my family; you're my daughter even if you don't consider me your mother," Carolyn admitted.

This was a surprise. Meredith was never under the impression that Carolyn liked her all that much. "Oh, um… yeah, okay… have you heard anything from Dr. Webber?"

"No, Dr. Webber has been busy in surgery and personally, I wouldn't want him to take the time to update us. Bailey's going to see if she can find any information though," Carolyn sighed. "I'm so sorry, Meredith. I'm so sorry for all you've been through."

Meredith shook her head. "No, I'm sorry… it seems like ever since Derek met me… I don't know; it's been hard for everyone."

"You're very kind but don't blame yourself, Meredith. Derek's life would have gone downhill a lot faster if he hadn't met you. Don't you remember what I told you about… about how you help him see the shades of grey?"

"Yeah, I know but… but Derek's smart. I think he… would have figured that out anyway," Meredith said and averted her eyes from Carolyn's face. She did not want anyone to end up crying and making this a dramatic, Hallmark moment.

But even with averted eyes, Meredith could see Carolyn shrug. "I'm not so sure about that. Derek's been brilliant his whole life; it's how he became a neurosurgeon in the first place. He never figured out the shades of grey with Addison; that's for sure. You've made him into a better person, a stronger person."

Meredith did not say anything. How could she? How was anyone supposed to respond to that?

Instead, she changed the subject. "Have you gotten to… to see Mark at all?"

"I did. I actually just came from visiting him; he's doing better," Carolyn said and then she smiled. "When is he ever going to marry that sister of yours?"

Meredith froze momentarily and for the first time in an hour, her mind wandered somewhere other than Derek. "Oh, um… well, Mark's actually been dating this… other girl… Julia. She works at Seattle Presbyterian."

"Yeah, I know and that's what he tells me too, but come on, Meredith. You can't tell me that Mark doesn't still love Lexie. Does she still love him? Or has she moved on?"

"I'm not sure," Meredith said but Carolyn did not appear satisfied so she continued. "I think Lexie still loves him… she was talking with me about that, a little bit when… when we were still in the forest. But I don't know how things are… gonna be after all this, assuming… assuming that Lexie even survives… she was also talking about how she's been focusing too much on… on boys and wants more out of… herself."

Carolyn nodded. "Well, I'm glad to hear it. I'm glad to hear that Lexie is a good girl. She's your sister, so of course she is, but still… I think that she's a good influence on him, too… on Mark."

Meredith nodded, too, but more in a polite manner than actual agreement. Not long ago, there had been a time where Meredith and Derek were both actively campaigning to keep Mark away from Lexie so that he would not ruin her innocence. Ever since then, though they had fallen in love and Meredith knew from the bottom of her heart that Lexie's other boyfriends- Alex and Jackson, for example- did not compare. Mark was who made Lexie happier than she had ever been and it was Mark who Meredith could imagine marrying her sister in a beautiful, outdoor ceremony.

The two women who knew Derek best sat together for a little longer. Meredith was not exactly comfortable but she was not uncomfortable enough to ask Carolyn to leave; she knew that they were both suffering immensely about the same possibility.

Personally, Meredith could not picture living in a world that did not include Derek Shepherd, whether he was a surgeon or not. She had never wanted to rely on a man or rely on anyone for that matter, but just like Lexie had fallen in love with Mark, Meredith was Derek's, for all eternity. If he were to die… no, Meredith would not kill herself because she had Zola to think about now but she could imagine herself doing what her mother had and running away from Seattle.

_We would go to Boston,_ Meredith thought to herself. _We were planning on going to Boston anyway. Zola and I would move to Boston and I would make new friends, a new world for myself at Brigham. I would bust my ass to make sure that Lexie still got that fellowship at Harvard…_

But what if Lexie did not even survive? Meredith could not lose both Derek and Lexie. She would be broken beyond repair, damaged forever and while Meredith had always been dark and twisty, this would be a new level of loneliness.

Suddenly, there was a gentle knock on the door. Meredith looked up and Carolyn did too; surely, this was Bailey bringing an update on how Derek's surgery was progressing.

It was not Bailey, though. It was Dr. Webber, dressed in the aqua-colored scrubs of Boise Memorial Hospital, his entire front covered with blood… Derek's blood. Meredith found herself clutching the hand of her mother-in-law, ready yet unprepared for her world to be shredded. There was no possible way that they were all making it out of the woods alive.

"He's… he's in recovery," Webber sighed, his voice exhausted beyond measure. "We repaired the lung and the liver and put him on several rounds of antibiotics. He'll need several more surgeries for the hand but… he's going to be fine. Come on, Meredith… you should be there when he wakes up."

_**Okay, I know it was scary but there is a reason I had to do that to Derek and it's not because I'm an awful person. AND I will tell you guys that Derek is fixed now, physically. His lung and liver are repaired and it's only up from here. (No, I won't pull a Shonda and make you think that Derek's fine before ultimately killing him. I hope you know me better than that.) **_

_**Anyway, not only was that the last scary MerDer chapter but that is the last chapter that takes place purely in Boise, too! The next chapter should include the surgeons being flown back to Seattle and reuniting with more family and friends including Alex and Zola. **_

_**Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate you all so, so much. If you enjoyed this chapter please don't forget to follow/favorite and leave a review. I know it seems like a little thing to ask for but reviews seriously mean SO much to me because then I know what you guys did/didn't like. And let's be honest… I work super hard on these chapters and to quote Katie and Alicia ( KAFanFic on Twitter)… it's nice to water the writer.**_

_**I hope you enjoyed! Chapter 17 coming soon. Xoxo, merderpedia :)**_


	17. Home, Sweet Home

_**Author's Note- Let me be honest for a minute… after the last update, I really thought that people were going to hate me for doing that to Derek. It's not like he died, though, and as time goes on, like I said, that turn of events will make more sense for this story. Thank you so much for all of the continued support for this story. It really means so much to me and I have truly enjoyed writing it so far. But it's not even close to being over… now it's time to get the surgeons back to Seattle! **_

At the present moment, the least logical nickname to bestow upon Derek was _McDreamy_. His previously shiny, perfect hair was a wild mess, his face was scarred with cuts and bruises, and most noticeably, Derek was unconscious. But to Meredith, none of that mattered. Derek was alive and breathing steadily as the anesthesia worked its way out of his system.

According to Webber, the problem had stemmed from Derek's high risk of stroke. Last night, when his blood pressure would not slow down, Dr. Olson had given the order to place Derek on blood thinners, figuring that the risk of bleeding out was less than that of stroke.

Clearly, that was not entirely the case and Dr. Olson's choice had nearly caused Derek to lose his life. His surgery had been long, complicated, and Webber had almost lost Derek several times.

Meredith smiled to herself as she stroked the side of Derek's face, gently. There was still no guarantee that he would survive; post-surgical complications happened all the time but he was better and the risk of him stroking-out was now significantly lower. The main concern was keeping his vitals stable and infection under control.

Due to a variety of reasons, the crew from Seattle Grace had announced that they would soon be transferring all of the surgeons back to Seattle. Once Derek stabilized, he would be able to survive a short plane ride, and all of Lexie's machines were portable. Arizona needed to get to a better orthopedic department for her femur infection and it was stupid to stick around Boise forever when one of the best hospitals in the country was waiting for them nearby.

In her heart, Meredith was thankful and excited. She had been away from home for far too long. She was anxious to see Zola again, and to be in a hospital that felt safe, familiar, and reliable.

No matter how much she convinced herself otherwise though, Meredith was terrified of going back, too, because that would involve getting on an aircraft. She had refused, over and over again when Owen had informed her of the plan but there was no other option because of Arizona, Lexie, and Derek. All of the plane crash survivors were going to be sedated the whole time that they were in the air but that did not mean anything as far as _the odds_ went… lately, Meredith's odds had not been playing out in her favor. What if she woke-up back in the woods? What if she never woke-up at all?

_Then at least I don't have to watch my husband and my sister die,_ Meredith figured.

All of a sudden, there was a soft knock on the door from behind. Meredith had been waiting for a response from Derek for so long that she initially flinched and then turned around to see Webber, back and changed out of his bloody scrubs. "Any change?"

"Nothing yet," Meredith said. "How long has it been since anesthesia was administered?"

"Over two hours but I wouldn't worry too much. You know as well as I do that sometimes it can take longer when we're dealing with the lungs or the liver and with Derek, we dealt with both," Webber sighed.

Meredith nodded. "Everything went okay though? There were no major complications?"

"There was a lot of bleeding. It looks like Derek was bleeding internally for a while before he started vomiting. We kept the blood going in, too, though and he never flatlined," Webber explained.

"Okay, well then… he should be awake soon," Meredith said, reassuring herself as much as she was Webber.

Webber, who smiled and nodded as well, weakly. "Are you sure you don't want to come back to your room for a little while and rest? You look exhausted."

"I'm sure," Meredith said so Webber backed out of Derek's room, probably off to visit one of the other survivors.

He was right though. Meredith was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. She was more tired than she had been out in the woods (or at least it felt that way now) and she wanted to close her eyes and never open them again. She just wanted to disappear.

It was not like she was actively suicidal. She knew that she would not actually try to take her own life, not after how hard she had fought to keep herself and everyone else alive. But Meredith had no energy left. Every molecule in her body was focused on her anxiety about the plane ride home tomorrow.

There was a time in Meredith's life when she had been suicidal. It was right before her mother died, early in 2009. One morning, Meredith had almost drowned herself in the bathtub and later that day, she stopped fighting… she did not try to remain alive after falling into Elliott Bay.

It was only because of Derek that Meredith lived through that incident. And when Meredith had woken-up afterwards, it was Derek that had lied in her hospital bed next to her, keeping her warm and holding her hand.

Slowly, Meredith crawled up onto Derek's bed, exceedingly careful to maneuver around his incision sites. Meredith curled onto her side and rested her head on Derek's good shoulder; she grasped his healthy hand in her own.

_This is how I want to stay, forever,_ Meredith thought to herself and she kissed her husband, gently on the cheek…

"Dr. Grey?"

Meredith's eyes flew open. The last thing she remembered, she had been lying next to Derek, waiting for him to wake-up and feeling extremely tired herself. It looked like she had not changed positions; Derek was still resting quietly next to her but there was a new doctor standing next to the bed, one that Meredith had never seen before.

"W-What happened?" Meredith yawned.

"You fell asleep. And I'm sorry but it really is time that you get back to your own room now. Your husband needs his sleep," the doctor said.

It was weird; Meredith had never meant to stay here this long, not when Derek must have become conscious hours ago. But if that was the case, then why had he not woken-up his wife that was sleeping next to him?

Meredith glanced up at the new woman. "I was waiting… for… for him to wake-up; he had surgery… earlier. Who are you… anyway?"

"My name is Dr. Cynthia Sheehan; I'm Chief of Surgery at Boise Memorial. Since you're due to be transported back home tomorrow, I wanted to stop by and visit everyone personally… see if you had any questions or concerns."

"Did Derek wake-up?" Meredith asked.

"Briefly, but his blood pressure quickly shot up;, probably due to pain so Dr. Webber just gave the order for sedation again," Dr. Sheehan said. "Do you have any questions or concerns regarding your transfer tomorrow?"

Once more, Meredith looked down at Derek who was breathing steadily, a nasal tube providing him with oxygen and then back up at Sheehan. "Yeah, actually… I have a lot of concerns. I don't want to be flown back to Seattle. I'm relatively healthy… can't I go back on the bus?"

"Unfortunately, that is not possible, Dr. Grey. You are not being discharged from the hospital; you are simply being transferred and we need to move you to Seattle Grace just as we would if you were in critical condition. Don't worry; you and the other survivors will be sedated the entire flight," Sheehan explained.

"Okay, well then… then, can I stay here with… with Derek a little… longer? Can I see my sister, Lexie? Or my friend, Cristina?" Meredith begged.

Sheehan shook her head. "No, Dr. Grey. You have been out of bed and roaming the halls for far too long; you are still an ICU patient. Trust me, you will get to see all of your friends and family members tomorrow. Right now, we need to get you back to your room for dinner. It's important for us to see if you can keep a full meal down."

"I'm not feeling nauseous," Meredith said but it did not appear that she had a choice. Sheehan helped her back into a wheelchair and pushed her away from Derek, into the hallway, and back into her own ICU room, 512.

Thatcher was waiting for his eldest daughter and he smiled brightly at Meredith as she crawled into bed. "Hey, sweetie. So… so it looks like Derek's going to be okay, then? I'm… I'm so glad."

"I don't know… I never really got to… to see him awake and… his blood pressure keeps running really high," Meredith said.

"Yeah, well… well, it looks like he made it through the worst," Thatcher said and kept grinning awkwardly. "I was so worried, so worried for both of you… but it looks like everyone is doing better. It looks like we're all going home tomorrow."

Meredith nodded. "Are you flying back, too… like, on the plane? Or are you going on a bus?"

"They decided to put us all on a plane so that we could arrive at the same time you did. I'm not too thrilled about it myself but I figured that if you could manage, I could," Thatcher sighed.

"We're gonna be… sedated, thankfully," Meredith said. "Is Lexie doing any better?"

"She's the same, I guess," Thatcher replied and shrugged. "I mean, she's in her medically-induced coma or whatever it's called. They're going to look at waking her up once we're back home. Molly's going to be there, waiting for us."

Molly was Meredith's youngest sister, born two years after Lexie. It was going to be strange because while Meredith had met her, Molly had not known about Meredith at the time. They had never spoken to each other as sisters. Meredith wondered if she was supposed to care about Molly the same way she did about Lexie. If she was, then it was going to take time… a lot of time.

"I don't know Molly," Meredith admitted. "I really don't know anything… about her other than… than the fact that… she has a history of DBT and… and had a baby… um… a few years ago."

"You'll like her," Thatcher said. "Molly's really nice. She'll probably want to see Lexie first, and I mean… that's understandable; they grew-up together but she'll want to meet you, too. She's a good kid, Meredith and you'll like Laura, too… your niece."

It was difficult for Meredith to think of Laura as her niece. Yes, they had met; actually, Meredith had been in the operating room when Laura was born but they had never bonded. There was a good chance that Molly still thought of Meredith as the doctor who had killed her mother, Susan.

"Okay, well… thanks for the update. You can go back to… to Lexie now if you want," Meredith said and leaned back against her pillows.

"Well, I think we can hold off on that a little longer. Lexie's asleep, after all, and you're awake," Thatcher smiled. "Dr. Sheehan told me that you were supposed to order something for dinner and I have a menu here for you. Does anything in particular look good?"

He handed Meredith a piece of paper which was covered with different dietary options ranging from chicken tenders to pasta to breakfast items. Meredith was not very hungry, somehow, even though she had not eaten a real dinner in a week so she focused on the beverages. "Um… I'll take a chocolate milk. Can you just… go tell my nurse?"

"Oh, come on; you need to have more than a chocolate milk for dinner," Thatcher said.

"No, I really don't… I'm not that hungry."

"But Dr. Sheehan said that you needed to eat. Let's at least order something… you might decide that it looks good when it comes," Thatcher suggested and he looked at the menu himself. "How about a cheeseburger and fries? Or some chicken strips?"

Meredith shook her head. "If I'm gonna eat, I… I need to try and… be healthy."

"Okay… how about some pasta? You can get some fruit or something on the side. Don't worry about the carbs, Meredith; you need to gain weight…"

"That's too much; that's… that's too rich," Meredith argued.

And then her father did something that she never expected. He pointed out a third item on the menu, excitedly. "Here! Grilled vegetables on flatbread with hummus… you love hummus, Meredith and it's healthy! Let's order that."

"I… okay," Meredith agreed before she could help it but she was confused. How did Thatcher know that Meredith loved hummus? It was not like they had ever talked about favorite foods or about much of anything. Thatcher did not know Meredith.

But he apparently knew that his daughter loved hummus because he got on the hospital phone and called down to dietary. "Hi, this is Thatcher Grey, I'm Meredith Grey's father in room 512. I'd like to place an order for her for dinner… yes, we'd like the grilled veggies on flatbread with hummus and a chocolate milk…"

Soon enough, the meal arrived and true to Thatcher's word, the food did look better than Meredith had expected. She still could not finish all of it but the hummus was amazing and Thatcher ate the remaining food.

"You look like you're feeling better," Meredith commented. It was the first time she had seen Thatcher with dry eyes since the plane crash.

"Well, it just helps knowing that both of my girls are going to be alright," Thatcher confessed and took a long drink of ice water. "And we're going home tomorrow, we're gonna see Molly… then Lexie's gonna wake-up…"

"Yeah, you should go check on Lexie," Meredith interrupted because even though her father was being pleasant, she could not take much more of his chatter. "I'm really tired now… from eating and I'm gonna take a nap… go see Lexie and then… um… go visit Derek… if you can."

Luckily, Thatcher agreed. He leaned over and kissed Meredith one more time on the forehead and then practically skipped out of her ICU room, relieved and excited.

Meredith rolled over and stared out the windows. As of tomorrow, she was truly going to be home in Seattle… with Alex and Jackson and April. And then she was going to have to make decisions… what did she want to do next in life? Accept the fellowship at Brigham?

No, Meredith had already promised herself that she was not going anywhere until Derek and Lexie were well but at the moment, she did not think that she wanted to go anyway. Meredith did not want to pick-up and move across the country; she barely had the strength to talk with her friends and family. It was unrealistic and maybe even stupid but Meredith did not know if she wanted to be a surgeon at all, not after what she had done to Derek and Lexie…

Nothing was simple anymore. The plane crash had changed everything, turned everyone's world upside down. There was no guarantee that Derek was going to be able to operate again. There was no guarantee that Meredith would be able to insert a chest tube without suffering a panic attack. Lexie was likely going to live but she would have months of recovery ahead of her and for once in her life, Meredith wanted to be a good big sister.

Everything had been going so perfectly. The course for the future was laid out and for once, Meredith was going to have the advantage. She should have known that it was too good to be true, because the second she had started smiling and planning with her husband, the airplane they had been on dropped out of the sky.

**MTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTB**

"When you open your eyes, you're going to be home. You're going to wake-up at Seattle Grace," Bailey said before administering the anesthesia. "Are you ready?"

Meredith was not ready; she was never going to be ready to get on an airplane again, but right now, it was not like she had an abundance of options. She nodded shortly at Bailey and watched as the oxygen mask descended over her face. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Meredith thought that she might be praying that the plane broke down… that way, they could all be driven back to Seattle by bus. It did not matter how long they were on the road… days, weeks, months… Meredith refused to get on a plane…

And then, the next thing that she knew, her ears were filled with an oddly familiar sound, the sound of doctors, nurses, and techs running around in triage. Meredith groggily opened her eyes and realized that she was on a cot with sheets that were stamped: _Seattle Grace Hospital._

Meredith was home.

The fuzziness of the drugs still hanging over her, she slowly lifted her head and for a moment, the world swayed. But there was a hand on her right shoulder, a firm, strong hand, there to catch her and Meredith looked over to see her father.

"Hey," Thatcher grinned, awkwardly. "We made it… back home, I mean. How are you feeling?"

"Um… we're… the p-plane?" Meredith gasped; she was not making any sense but Thatcher appeared to have understood.

"No, the plane didn't crash… not this time. You're home safe, in Seattle and yes, everyone else made it here alive, too. Dr. Bailey should be in soon with an update."

"Okay," Meredith said and she hoped that her acknowledgement was an excusal, yet Thatcher did not move. She had no idea why; she figured that her father would want to spend more of his time with Lexie but she was not going to start another fight.

Either way, true to his word, Bailey arrived in Meredith's triage room less than ten minutes later, looking as normal as ever in her navy blue scrubs and white lab coat. She was holding Meredith's chart which was now secured in the standard, grey binder that accompanied all patients at Seattle Grace Hospital.

"Alright, Grey… how are you feeling?" Bailey asked.

"Um… tired but… I guess I'm okay," Meredith yawned. "Are you moving me upstairs somewhere?"

"Well, that depends," Bailey said. "Is there anything you would like to discuss with me related to your psychiatric health? Any thoughts… wanting to harm yourself or anyone else?"

Meredith shook her head, slowly.

"Alright, well… unless there's been any drastic changes that you're keeping silent from me, honestly, I don't think I have too much left for you."

It took Meredith a minute to realize that the packet Bailey was handing her was a collection of discharge papers. "W-Wait, you're discharging me?"

Half of Meredith was horrified but another part of her was merely surprised. Just three days ago, she had been in the woods, close to death. Unless she was mistaken, none of the other surgeons from the plane crash would be getting released anytime soon. It was like Meredith had assumed this entire time that she would be in the hospital until everyone was either dead or well enough to go home.

But Bailey was shrugging and smiling sarcastically. "I don't see any other reason that I'd be handing you discharge papers. Your head's been closed up; your leg is healing nicely. There's nothing else to do for broken ribs and a concussion besides rest and you can do that at home. Can you think of a reason to stick around here?"

_Yes, I can think of lots of reasons, _Meredith thought. _My husband is still here. My sister is still here. I was in a plane crash three days ago…_

None of those reasons were medical though. Bailey was right. Medically, Meredith was healthy enough to go home; there was no reason for her to take up a bed in the hospital.

"You're better hydrated than most people working here. They'll be prescribing you antibiotics for your leg," Bailey continued when Meredith did not budge. "You're good to go, Grey. Go home and be with your baby girl. Come back if your abdomen, your spleen becomes distended at all; you know the drill."

"Wait," Meredith said and set down the pen Bailey had passed her. "I'm not signing yet… not until you tell me how everyone else is doing. Are they getting discharged soon?"

Thatcher and Bailey both glanced at one another like they had expected this but it did not stop the latter from answering: "Cristina is cleared medically but we cannot release her until we are sure she's not a threat to herself or anyone else. We'll be monitoring her in the ICU for a few more days and if there's no improvement, she'll be transferred to psych.

"Arizona… there's no end in sight for Arizona; she's gonna need more surgery and physical therapy on that leg before she has a chance to go anywhere and the same goes for Lexie. I'm not sure yet so don't quote me but I think there's a good chance she'll have to take a year off of residency and not resume being a doctor until 2014.

"Mark is stable but we're keeping him for another day or two because of his burns. He's going to have surgery in a couple hours, just to have a few skin grafts put in place and then he'll be home, probably hanging onto Julia or someone until that ankle fracture is fixed.

"Your husband is in critical condition following his abdominal surgery yesterday. He is still struggling with some high blood pressure and he will require at least another week of intensive medical care but don't worry. Unless something changes drastically, I see no reason why Derek Shepherd should not survive."

Meredith nodded. It could have been worse, especially when it came to Derek and Lexie. When they were in the forest, Meredith had doubted that Lexie would hang-on long enough to get rescued but she had made it through several surgeries with the help of a defibrillator. If all continued to go well, she was probably going to wake-up in a few days and then begin her recovery process.

The main concern was Derek. He had not been awake for more than a few seconds since he was vomiting blood. No one knew how much neurological function he had retained or if there were other forms of internal damage.

But there was nothing Meredith could do for Derek, not until she was released and free.

Picking up the pen again, Meredith began to sign her name on the discharge papers but then stopped again, abruptly. "Wait… where am I going now?"

Before the plane crash, Meredith and Derek had been planning to use their remaining time in Seattle to pack up all their belongings. They had been living in Meredith's childhood home, like always, but the dream house was completed and they had fantasized about spending a few nights there before selling it to Mark.

Now though… what was Meredith going to do? Where was she going to go without Derek? She was not ready to sleep in a house all by herself. That was too much and based on Meredith's lingering injuries, she was not sure if she would even be able to care for Zola and herself properly.

"Well, I thought… if you'd like, Meredith; you're more than welcome…"

"No, I'm not staying with you," Meredith interrupted her father.

"Just until you figure out your next move and get back on your feet… just until Derek gets discharged," Thatcher suggested.

Meredith shook her head. "No, I have to be somewhere that has… the proper set-up for Zola… you know, Zola, my adopted daughter?"

"I know who you're talking about but no, I don't actually know Zola. You've never introduced us," Thatcher said. "I… I'd love to meet her though… my… my granddaughter…"

Thatcher already had a grandchild- Laura, Molly's daughter. In the eight months that Meredith had officially been Zola's mother though, she had never bothered to contact her father about the new addition to the family and she had promised Lexie to be nicer to Thatcher. Still, agreeing to go live with him for a few days was pressing things.

When they had been staring at each other for almost a full minute, Meredith trying to decide how to let her father down gently, Bailey finally sighed and intervened. "Okay, how about this… Meredith, you go and stay at your house with Alex Karev who just so happens to be out in the lobby waiting for you right now. Before you leave, though, you can introduce your father to Zola because Alex has been with her for the last week and she's waiting on you, too."

"That sounds fair," Thatcher grinned so Meredith nodded in agreement.

First, she changed into an outfit that someone (probably Alex) had brought her from the house. It consisted of a pair of blue jeans, a lacy, black bra, some matching underwear, and a long-sleeved Dartmouth shirt. The sexy lingerie really did not match the rest of the comfort-based attire; it had definitely been Alex who chose these clothes.

Still, Meredith put on the outfit with the help of Bailey and was glad when the material covered a majority of her bruises, cuts, and scars from the crash. There were marks on her face that were visible, but Bailey covered them decently with some concealer, borrowed from April. After all, Meredith did not want to scare Zola.

She finished off her look with a pair of fuzzy, winter socks and two old, white running shoes… probably all that Alex could find.

"You look good, Grey," Bailey said when she had finished tying Meredith's sneakers, as the latter could not yet bend over. It was the first time Meredith had worn real clothes in over a week and it felt strange… like part of Meredith still belonged in the hospital but of course, she did… everyone she loved was here.

Well, everyone except for Alex who was apparenting waiting anxiously out in the lobby. Meredith took a shaky breath to prepare herself for the reunion which was sure to be emotional for a lot of different reasons and sat back down on her stretcher to wait.

"Any other questions, comments, concerns?" Bailey clarified one final time.

"I… I don't know," Meredith said. "What about… um… you said I was getting antibiotics but… am I getting anything for my ribs or… or anything for sleep?"

"Yes, I will keep you on hydrocodone for now; that should help with the physical pain and I can prescribe you a few doses of trazodone for sleep," Bailey said. "You will have to complete therapy before returning to work, though, so the trazodone will only be enough to hold you over until your first appointment with Dr. Wyatt; she'll be in charge of any other psychiatric medications."

"Okay," Meredith said. In order to be prescribed proper psychiatric medication, she would have to talk in depth about her emotions and Meredith was not ready to do that yet. She had gotten through the aftermath of the shooting without medications; she could tolerate a little anxiety and restlessness.

"Alright, then. I will go and pick-up your amoxicillin and trazodone from the pharmacy after I tell Alex you're ready."

Bailey had only walked out of triage possibly thirty seconds ago, however, when Alex himself burst through the curtains surrounding Meredith's bed, his face pale and eyes full of emotion.

"Mer," Alex whispered, visibly trying not to stare at Meredith's concealer which did not precisely match her complexion.

"Hi," Meredith whispered from where she was still sitting on the gurney, awkwardly. It was good to see Alex; Meredith had been unsure if she was ever going to lay eyes on him again but upon viewing his face, the first face from home, it was like her PTSD was sparked all over again. Meredith felt fragile and distant from everyone who had not been out there in the woods with them for four days.

Her body tense with anxiety, Meredith wondered, was she supposed to pretend or not?

It did not matter because Alex could tell that Meredith was in no way alright. He took a few steps closer to his friend and reached out to touch her but then drew back. "Um… is it… is it okay if I hug you?"

"I… yeah, it's okay," Meredith said and a second later, Alex had thrown his arms around her. But Meredith was still injured and she unintentionally winced when his grip became too hard.

Alex backed off, looking worried. "Dammit, sorry… um… are you okay?"

"I guess so, relatively speaking," Meredith said.

"Right, right… so… am I bringing you home?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, Bailey said I was cleared medically but Thatcher… I mean… I mean, my dad wanted to meet Zola first if that's okay."

"Why are you asking me?" Alex snorted. "You're her mother. I'm just the loser that's been telling her to stop crying for the last week."

Meredith smiled weakly. She was not sure what was going to happen when she saw Zola herself. Zola was a year and a half old now and definitely not a baby… would she be able to tell what her mother had been through? Meredith was determined to not show her emotions. She did not want to be traumatized and distant the way her own mother had always been.

Thankfully, there was not too much time to overthink things. Alex lead Meredith out of triage and up to the daycare where Zola came running when she saw her mom. Meredith put a huge smile on her face, a real one, and when she hugged her daughter, she wondered if all the trauma had just been a bad dream.

"I want to stop and see Derek before we leave," Meredith said once the trio was walking onto the infamous Seattle Grace elevators. "And… and Lexie and Cristina, too. I haven't gotten to see either of them since we were rescued."

"Yeah, definitely. I want to see them, too," Alex said and he put his arm around Meredith's shoulders in a protective, brotherly manner as they were lifted up to the ICU.

It was Derek's room that the trio came upon first but it was not until Meredith had pushed Zola into her father's hospital quarters that she remembered… Derek was still unconscious due to his high blood pressure.

"Daddy!" Zola cried loudly and lunged forward in her stroller. She could not talk a lot yet, being only 18 months but she knew her mother and father.

Only this time, Zola's father did not respond to her. He simply lied there with lots of tubes and wires connected to his body, moaning slightly. Zola was beginning to look afraid and she wailed again: "Daddy! DADDY!"

"I… I can't… I can't do this," Meredith found herself whispering, her eyes filling with tears and panic rising in her chest. "I can't… oh, God…"

Thankfully, Alex immediately jumped into action, grabbing Zola's stroller himself. "It's okay… it's okay, I've got you, Zo-Zo. Daddy's just taking a nap right now like you have to do sometimes."

He quickly pushed Zola outside into the hallway where he left her with Bailey, who had joined them in the ICU and then scampered back to Meredith and slipped an arm around her. "Hey… you're okay. It's okay. Zola's fine; she's out with Bailey. It's just us now."

"O-Okay," Meredith choked out and covered half of her face with her hand, trying to prevent herself from crying or throwing-up or maybe both. Every sob that her body uttered, though, sent waves of pain through her abdomen and so she used the other hand to clutch her stomach.

"Come on, let's sit down," Alex said and he gently lead Meredith over to a chair next to Derek's bed. Once she was sitting, Alex grabbed a spare stool, dragged it over next to both of them, and rested as well, rubbing Derek's good arm softly. "Hey, Shepherd. It's good to see you, man."

Derek opened his eyes slowly and looked back and forth from Meredith to Alex. "Yeah… Mer… hi…"

"Hi," Meredith repeated and forced another weak smile onto her face. "We're home now, um… in case you didn't know. You survived your surgery."

"That's… that's good. I… I love you," Derek whispered but then his eyes closed again and he faded back off into unconsciousness.

Meredith nodded in response; she really did not know what else to do and then she stood up, kissed Derek on the lips, and wandered back out into the hallway, striding past Bailey who was holding Zola with an expectant expression on her face. Meredith walked on, into Cristina's room with Alex right behind her.

Cristina was awake but it was like she was not there. Lying on her back with her eyes staring up at the ceiling, the woman on the bed seemed like only a shell of Dr. Cristina Yang with none of her brilliance or sarcastic personality inside.

"Damn," Alex murmured when he saw her and motioned for Meredith to go on without him.

Meredith did as she was told and watched as Alex crossed the hall, ducking into another ICU room that probably contained Arizona. That was going to be an awkward conversation. Arizona was never supposed to be on the flight to Boise at all; it was Alex that was scheduled to go and then she had taken his place after Alex opted for the fellowship at Hopkins.

But now was not the time to think about Alex or Arizona. Now was the time to visit Cristina who had still made no physical movements to suggest that she recognized her best friend.

"Cristina," Meredith said and sat down in a new chair next to the bed. She realized that Cristina was not in restraints anymore so that had to be a good sign. "Hey, Cristina… it's me."

There was no reply. Meredith looked up, hoping that Alex would give her some kind of advice, but then remembered that Alex had gone to see Arizona. In his place, were Jackson and April, both anxious and excited to see Meredith out of bed.

She beckoned to her two friends, allowing them to enter Cristina's hospital room. Jackson looked like he was working; he bent down at the foot of Cristina's bed to examine her toes.

"I wasn't aware that she needed plastic surgery," Meredith said although it was doubtful that Cristina's case was actually going to require an operation.

"She's got frostbite from the woods and Boise asked me to follow up on what they had done," Jackson explained. "But it looks like it's progressing pretty well. How are you?"

Meredith shrugged; she was already tired of people asking her that question. "I mean… I'm medically cleared so… I guess that's good."

"Do you think you're still gonna move to Boston?" April asked. "There's been rumors going around and stuff… people saying that you declined the fellowship."

"I haven't decided anything yet. It's probably gonna depend on how Derek heals and everything," Meredith said but that was a lie. She could not imagine herself moving across the country, especially now that they were home in Seattle. It was not even an option as far as she was concerned and it was because of Meredith's fellowship that Derek was considering the move in the first place… Owen Hunt would still want them both; Meredith was sure of it.

"Well, I'm so glad you're all okay. I've been praying for you guys constantly," April sighed.

"Thank you, April," Meredith said but it was a weird comment… _you're all okay._ April was a doctor and she had to know better. They were sitting right in front of Cristina who was clearly not okay… Derek was unconscious and tachycardic; he was not okay. Mark, Arizona, and Lexie were all recovering from surgeries… Lexie might not recover at all… how were any of them okay?!

Meredith barely kept herself from shouting at April. Instead, she turned back to Cristina who had not moved an inch this entire time. "Cristina, you know we're back home in Seattle, right? We're not in the plane crash anymore and everyone's alive. Lexie's alive and Derek's alive."

There was still no response so Meredith just squeezed her best friend's hand and whispered, "I love you" before backing out of the room and meeting Alex in the hallway.

"Any luck?" Alex asked her.

"No, it's like she's in a coma but with her eyes open," Meredith said and took a deep breath. She had only been out of bed for approximately a half hour but she was exhausted and could not wait to get home… to her real home. "How's Arizona?"

Alex sighed, too. "Physically, I guess she's okay… she's sitting up and talking. She won't listen to anyone that suggests amputation, though, so she and Callie have some kind of alternative plan in place. She's not great, mentally… not that any of you are."

"Mad at you for the whole… thing?" Meredith guessed.

"I think so. I mean, I'd be mad at myself if I was in her position," Alex confessed but then he dropped the subject and Meredith could tell that he did not want to talk about his mentor anymore.

Next, they walked further down the hall to the last of the plane crash victims. Mark had just returned from surgery so he was sleeping and there was no point in disturbing his rest but Lexie was still in her medically-induced coma and Meredith wanted to make sure she saw her. There was still a chance that Lexie could die and if that happened, Meredith needed to see her sister alive one more time. Anything had to be better than the Lexie that Meredith had seen in the woods on their fourth night…

...Or at least she had assumed nothing could be worse. It was strange because technically, Lexie was much healthier than she had been in the forest but right now, _healthy _was the last word that Meredith would use to describe her sister. If Cristina did not look like herself, then it was like Lexie was from a different universe.

This Lexie was pale white, emaciated, and basically, a child. Her legs, which still needed additional surgery, were propped up in the air and her arm was in a sling. There were tubes, wires and monitors stuck all over Lexie's tiny body like she was a doll rather than a human and deep, dark circles appeared to be permanently etched under her eyes. Perhaps most notably, Lexie's chest was wrapped with bandages from her thoracotomy. Her nose was uneven and the rest of her skin was covered with bruises and lacerations. Lexie's hair had been shaved and she was wearing a heavy-duty, protective helmet to guard her brain.

Meredith froze in the doorway; there was no way that this was Lexie… little, perky, happy Lexie with an overly-eager personality. Lexie was supposed to be the next Chief Resident. She was supposed to be the best surgeon, better than Meredith…

"Hey," said a quiet voice suddenly from behind and Meredith turned her head and saw Alex. "I know it's scary but remember… she's still alive."

"I know she's alive," Meredith said and she inched her way closer to her sister, trying her hardest not to feel sick because that was not an appropriate reaction, not when Lexie still had a fighting chance.

As gently as possible, Meredith reached forward and took Lexie's hand in her own. It was cold… not as cold as it would be if Lexie had died, but cold nonetheless from lack of oxygen. Part of Lexie's lung had been removed…

This was the part where, if Meredith's life was a movie, she would sit down and talk to her sister and remind her of all the beautiful memories they had shared together. Maybe, if it was an especially cheesy movie, Lexie would wake-up after Meredith had cried for a while, and promise to keep fighting and live forever.

But Meredith's life was not a movie and medically, there was no way for Lexie to wake-up currently. She was in a medically-induced coma; the drugs were keeping her sedated whether her body had healed or not. There really was no point in sitting down and speaking with Lexie because the odds were, she had no idea that Meredith was in the same building as her.

Still, Meredith found herself acting like some gross character from a Lifetime movie and sitting down in the chair next to Lexie's bed. She found herself squeezing Lexie's hand and taking a deep breath and then beginning to talk like Lexie was waking-up from a particularly long nap.

"Okay, Lexie… this really should be your job. You should be the one sitting here and… and gushing on and on about how you love me even though I was never a very good sister. That would be something you'd do and I don't mean that in a bad way. You just care like that. You care about everyone, too much sometimes; you cared about me when you didn't even know me and that just proves that you are a better person than I'll ever be.

"Okay, I'm… I'm getting too soppy so… I just want you to know that I love you. I haven't always shown it and especially… especially in the beginning, I wasn't a good sister but you are the best and I love you so much. Mark loves you too, even if he doesn't want to admit it. Yeah… okay, I'll tell you the rest when you wake-up, okay? Get some rest and… and don't worry about being perfect or anything. You're home now and people love you and you're gonna get better. I promise."

It was against the rules as a doctor to promise a patient anything. But Meredith was not promising Lexie anything as a doctor. She was promising her as a sister because she knew that Lexie's morale had not been all that high lately and she thought that if Lexie could hear her, she would probably appreciate her big sister telling her that things were going to be okay.

Another minute of eerie silence passed. Meredith watched Lexie continue to inhale and exhale. And then she got up and, feeling slightly dizzy, followed Alex out of the ICU.

_**Yay! The surgeons are officially home in Seattle and Meredith has been reunited with Zola and Alex. Like I said before, Derek really is okay now; he just needs some more time to get his BP down and wake-up from the anesthesia. Although Lexie is still unconscious, I hope you enjoyed the sweet sister moment between her and Meredith. **_

_**Stay tuned for Meredith's arrival back at her childhood house and adjusting back to "normal" life! Thank you all so much for reading; it means so much to me! If you enjoyed, please don't forget to favorite/follow and review! Reviews make me SO happy and mean so much to me. Love you all forever! Xoxo, merderpedia :) **_


	18. Step by Step

_**Author's Note- Sorry for the delay! I just don't like to post chapters until I am 100% confident in them but the good news is, this chapter is SUPER long! Enjoy!**_

Alex and Meredith did not say a word to one another until they made it down to the hospital lobby and thankfully, Zola was quiet as well. The first thing that prompted Meredith out of the trance was her father who was standing in the lobby, his arms open wide, ecstatic to meet his granddaughter.

"There's my girl!" Thatcher cried, smiling as his family approached. "Can I hold her, Meredith? Please?"

"Um… yeah, of course," Meredith said and carefully passed Zola over to her father. "Zo-Zo, this is… this is Grandpa. Yeah, this is Grandpa. Say _hi_."

Zola made a series of odd, baby noises but they sounded pleasant and Thatcher grinned again. "Hi, Zola! It's nice to meet you… maybe your mom would let you come stay with me sometime… we could have a movie night… watch movies and eat lots of sugar."

"Yeah, well… remember that both of her parents are doctors," Meredith said, hoping that she did not sound too bitter. Seeing Lexie had renewed her desire to be nicer to her father. It would be awful if Lexie woke-up and saw that Meredith had not kept her promises.

Thatcher held Zola for a few seconds longer, and bounced her up and down just like he had with Molly's baby. Finally, he handed her back over to Alex who got Zola situated in her stroller and Meredith realized that Thatcher had tears in his eyes. "She's… she's beautiful, Mer."

"Thank you," Meredith smiled. "Well, um… I guess we're gonna get going. Are you gonna stay up here with Lexie?"

"Yeah, I have to; she's still critical and Molly is here; she just ran to the bathroom," Thatcher said. "Believe me, Meredith… if you and Lexie were flipped, I'd still be here. I wouldn't leave your side for a second if you were… you know…"

Meredith nodded to spare them both the misery. "Yeah… I know. Thanks."

She started to head in the opposite direction when Thatcher stopped her with a gentle touch to her shoulder. "Hold on, Meredith… if you don't mind… Molly should be back in a second and I know she really wants to meet you."

"I… I don't know if this is a good time," Meredith sighed and she wanted to say more. She wanted to explain how she had never felt more unlike herself and wanted nothing more than to escape this hospital but before she could mention any of that, Thatcher perked-up again.

"Oh, here she is now! Here's Molly…"

A thin young woman with dark blonde hair and a shy face approached their circle. She was carrying a huge, plush teddy bear in her arms, doubtlessly for Lexie, along with a bouquet of yellow carnations and a balloon that read, _Get Well Soon! _Meredith had last seen this girl over four years ago, during her internship, on the day of Susan's funeral… it was remarkable, to be honest, how much Molly looked like Susan. She bore her mother's resemblance much more than Lexie.

"Hey, sweetheart," Thatcher said and put an arm around his youngest daughter's back. "I know you've met before but… before we go up, I want to introduce you two real quick. Molly, this is your oldest sister, Meredith… Meredith, this is my Molly."

Meredith opened her mouth and meant to greet her sister but nothing came out. It was Molly that spoke first in a stunned voice. "You… you were the doctor in my delivery. W-When I had Laura, you were the one in there that said she wasn't breathing."

"Oh," Meredith said and then realized that she sounded really stupid. "Oh, I mean… yeah, I guess I was… um… it's nice to meet you… again, Molly."

"Yeah, it's nice to finally meet my other sister," Molly agreed.

"Yeah," Meredith repeated and there was an awkward silence as they all stared at one another. A new subject was needed, desperately. "Um… so how's Laura?"

Molly smiled, softly. "Laura's great. She's four years old now and full of energy. You can't tell that anything was ever wrong. I have another baby now, too, a son; I'm not sure if you knew… Aiden. He's just a year old and… absolutely hilarious. Do you have kids?"

"I have one little girl, too… she's almost 18 months," Meredith said and then pointed over to where Alex was helping Zola get situated. "That's her, right there. She's… she's adopted, obviously but… her name is Zola… Zola Grey Shepherd."

"Can I go meet her?" Molly asked, her eyes wide.

Meredith paused again; she did not want to be rude but there were approximately ten thousand other things on her mind currently. "Um… maybe later. She just met her grandfather for the first time, too and… and look, I'm sorry but this is… a lot, right now… for, for me… I'm sure we can… um… catch up later?"

"Yeah, please," Molly begged. "You're my sister and even if you don't want to know me, I'd really like to know you. Lexie's told me so much about you."

Not entirely sure how to respond, Meredith smiled, weakly. "I'm sure she… I mean, yeah… Lexie's… Lexie's amazing. I love her very much and… and she should hopefully wake-up soon, in the next few days. Are you guys gonna go see her… Dad?"

It was the first time in her entire life that Meredith had called Thatcher _Dad_… or at least the first time since Meredith was five years old. It felt strange and wrong but she wanted to do it in front of Molly so that if Lexie asked later, she would know that Meredith had kept her promises. Plus, it probably gave Molly the impression that Meredith was a halfway decent human being.

The title had clearly startled Thatcher though, and he was looking at Meredith with stars in his eyes. "Oh… oh, yes! We're going to do that right now. You ready, Molly?"

"I'm ready," Molly said and the two of them wandered off towards the elevators. Meredith noticed that Thatcher also had a card in his back pocket, a _Get Well_ letter for Lexie.

But she did not have to think about her biological family anymore. Meredith took a deep breath and faced Alex again. "Okay, can we go now?"

"That was painful, wasn't it?" Alex smirked; he understood the struggle; he had his own issues with his family in Iowa.

"Very," Meredith acknowledged.

They were just about to walk through the front doors of Seattle Grace when Alex stopped short again and put his hand on Meredith's shoulder. "By the way, Mer… uh, you might wanna prepare yourself."

"Why?"

"Because, well… if you didn't know, this whole plane crash thing has kinda gotten a shit ton of media attention. News-stations and everything have been camped out here for a week. I don't know how but I think they've gotten word that one of the survivors is being discharged today and they're probably gonna have a lot to ask you. I mean, security will walk us out and everything but… still," Alex explained.

It made sense but that did not make this piece of information anymore acceptable to Meredith who just wanted to get home and lie down in her own bed. "Okay, then. I'll prepare myself."

There was no way that Meredith could prepare herself though, for the chaos that hit her as soon as she walked out into the sunshine. There were cameras everywhere, microphones and flashes of light; questions were being thrown at her from all directions.

"Dr. Grey, how are you feeling? Are you happy to be out of the hospital?"

"How are the other surgeons holding up, Dr. Grey?"

"Did you ever think that you were going to be found out in the woods, Dr. Grey?"

"Dr. Grey, how did you manage to survive without any medical treatment?"

Security was there, blocking the reporters from actually touching Meredith but she was still overwhelmed. She clutched Alex's hand tightly, afraid that she might pass-out. A nearby television screen, which was mounted on a tripod or something was showing her discharge live; Meredith was even paler and thinner on camera.

A huge, red heading across the screen read: "FIRST OF SEATTLE SURGEONS RELEASED FROM HOSPITAL FOLLOWING PLANE CRASH"... _why was this breaking news?_

"Do you think you can run?" Alex asked Meredith as the journalists closed-in, cornering their prey.

"I… I can barely walk," Meredith replied so security called for back-up and three huge officers ended up having to escort the two doctors all the way over to Alex's Volvo which was parked a few rows into the lot.

Everyone barely got inside before the film crews went chasing after them. With Zola laughing in the backseat, under the impression that the entire thing was a game, Alex took off, slamming his foot onto the gas pedal.

A few minutes later, they screeched to a stop in front of Meredith's childhood home which had never looked quite so beautiful.

"You're gonna stay here, right? Like, at least until Derek gets discharged?" Meredith asked as they carried Zola inside the house.

"Yeah, of course," Alex said. "I mean, it's not like I have anywhere else to go."

Inside, he personally laid Zola down for her nap so that his friend would have time to readjust herself.

"Do you want anything to eat?" Alex offered once Meredith was sitting down on her living room couch, staring idly at a blank television. "We could order pizza or something, if you want."

Maybe Meredith was supposed to be hungry; she still had not eaten much since being rescued. Her largest meal had consisted of the vegetables and hummus that her father had ordered the night before. The entire time that Meredith had been in the woods, she had been starving but now, food did not seem like a priority.

"I'm okay for now," Meredith said.

"Okay, well I'm gonna order pizza and you can have some if you get hungry later," Alex said and picked up his phone. Meredith spaced out on the couch, trying not to let the dark images creep into her mind. She did not realize that Alex had finished ordering pizza until he sat down next to her. "So… what now?"

It was possibly the most difficult question that anyone had ever asked Meredith. She continued staring at the television with a blank expression on her face. "I'm… not sure."

"Do you wanna watch a movie or something?" Alex suggested.

"No…"

"Do you wanna take a shower? Change clothes?"

Meredith's ribs were still hurting badly and she doubted that she was going to be able to do either of those things by herself. "No…"

"Do you wanna… go to sleep?"

"I don't know…"

Alex sighed and rubbed Meredith on the shoulder, softly. "Um… Mer… I, I don't mean this in a… bad way or anything; I know I could be totally off. But… you're not, like… having bad thoughts or anything, are you? You're not wanting to… hurt yourself or… or kill yourself?"

A lot of people had already asked Meredith that; it was a logical question but Meredith could not help but wonder if Alex was comparing her to Rebecca, also known as Ava, also known as the crazy girl that Alex had dated during their second year of residency. She had underlying Borderline Personality Disorder, had slit her wrists in Meredith's kitchen and peed on their couch.

Was that who Meredith was morphing into? She turned her head to look at Alex slowly, and then pieced the words in her head together enough that she managed to shake her head. "I'm… no… I'm… I'm fine."

"Okay," Alex said. "Do you want some of your medicine? Bailey said she was giving you medicine… um… antibiotics and stuff to help with your pain."

Meredith was only going to get so many of those pain pills. Any doctor, Bailey included, knew the dangers of opioid addiction and right now, Meredith's pain was not unmanageable. "No… I'm fine."

"Okay," Alex repeated.

The pizza arrived a few minutes later. The doorbell rang and it startled Meredith, although she was not really sure why. Alex carried the pie inside, and then served Meredith a single piece of pepperoni pizza on a paper plate. "I know you said that you weren't hungry but you really should try to eat something."

"Okay," Meredith said and she took a bite. It was the first non-hospital food that she had consumed in over a week but just like everything else in her life, it was not all that she remembered prior to the plane crash. Before the plane crash, pizza was flavorful comfort food. Now, it was bland and simple.

Over the next five minutes, Meredith thought that she might have consumed a few more bites but then she lost interest in the food. She set down her half-empty paper plate on the living room table and continued to stare at the blank television, borderline catatonic, until Alex finished his dinner and approached her again.

"Are you full?"

"Yeah," Meredith said.

"Okay, well… we're gonna get you upstairs and changed. Do you want to take a shower now or in the morning?"

Meredith did not care when she showered. She did not care about anything. "I… don't care but… I'm not sure if I can shower. Um… my ribs… they still hurt. And I don't want you to see me naked."

"Believe me, I don't want to see that either but I won't look. I'll just help you get in; you can probably wash your body and then I'll help with your hair when you're done. You can take a bath, too; that might make it easier. Does that sound okay?" Alex suggested.

It was pathetic but Meredith could not think of a better plan so she agreed. After Alex helped her climb the stairs of her childhood home, she stood in the bathroom silently while he peeled off her Dartmouth t-shirt and lacy bra. Meredith was able to step out of her jeans by herself and she was preparing to step into the tub when she noticed that contrary to his promise, Alex was staring but he was not looking at Meredith in a sexual way.

His face was shocked, slightly pale, disgusted and Meredith remembered that she had a lot of much larger bruises and lacerations on her body that had been previously hidden by her clothes. Meredith's upper thigh still had stitches holding it together and there was a massive, dark bruise on Meredith's abdomen, near her ribs. It looked worse than it did after the initial crash.

There was nothing that Meredith could say to make this better though so she carefully climbed into the bathtub which was filled with hot, soapy water and leaned backwards. She thought about all the times that she had taken baths here, with Derek… how they had had sex here, countless times. Meredith thought about the time that she had tried to drown herself in the bathtub.

Slowly, Meredith began to sink further down into the water, away from Alex, away from the memories of the plane crash, away from life. Just as she was about to submerge herself entirely into the soap, Derek reached his hands down and yanked Meredith upwards, out of the water, and held her by the shoulders…

It was not Derek. It was Alex and he was looking at Meredith like she was crazy. "Hey… you need to sit up, okay? Sit up so I can help you."

"Okay," Meredith said and she sat perfectly still; she stared at the bathroom wall as Alex helped her clean her arms and legs, her back and her chest. He was especially gentle with her abdomen.

When all of that was finished, Alex squirted a bunch of shampoo into his hand and then began softly rubbing it through Meredith's head, careful once again because of her still-healing head injury. Meredith had been given bed-baths at Boise Memorial by the nightshift nurses but this was the first time that she had really been cleaned since spending four days in the woods. Beneath all the numbness and pain, she did think that it felt good.

"Time to rinse," Alex said; he filled a spare cup with bathwater and then poured it over Meredith's head, perhaps not wanting to risk her leaning backwards.

The bath seemed to take forever but when it was eventually completed, Alex helped Meredith step back out of the tub and wrapped her with a huge, white towel. He fetched another set of clothes for her from the bedroom- a standard set of matching, blue pajamas along with some soft, cotton underwear and helped her dress herself.

Alex even combed some of the worst knots out of Meredith's hair until she was wincing from the pain of her concussion, and then he stopped and helped blow-dry her hair.

"Let's take your medicine now," Alex said when Meredith was sitting on her bed, her own, beautiful bed for the first time in over a week. "Let's see… Amoxicillin, Hydrocodone, Trazodone… at least they're giving you some good drugs."

He handed her the three pills in a small paper cup which Meredith chased with a swallow of water. She laid down in bed and allowed Alex to pull the covers up over her.

"I'm right next door if you need anything, okay?" Alex reminded her before he left. "But I think you'll be okay. When I was on Hydrocodone for the GSW, it knocked me right out and you have Trazodone, too."

Meredith nodded, robotically. She was really home, with her own bed to sleep in… the post-it note symbolizing her and Derek's love for one another was hanging on the wall and thus far, everyone that she loved was alive… why did Meredith not feel better?

**MTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTB**

When Meredith was in the middle of a shift, most of the time, the hours all blurred together. She was in and out of surgeries, running around in the emergency room, and even at 1:00 in the morning, it could have just as well been 1:00 in the afternoon. Regular sleep schedules did not exist for most doctors.

Maybe that was why it felt so wrong for Meredith to be home, tucked into bed early with no work of any kind on her schedule for the next few weeks. Maybe that was why, at 1:00 in the morning, despite her ultimate exhaustion, Meredith was lying in her bed, wide awake, wondering if the trees blowing outside were really outside at all… what if they came inside the house? What if Meredith was in the forest again, listening to the wolves rip apart Jerry and watching as life drained out of her husband and sister?

_Let the medications take effect. The morphine knocked you out fine in Boise,_ Meredith told herself on so many occasions. There were currently ten milligrams of hydrocodone running through her system and fifty milligrams of Trazodone but it was like her body was fighting the drugs. It wanted to keep itself awake and alert because surely, another crisis would soon manifest and Meredith would need to be ready.

What if Lexie was coding? What if Derek was having a stroke? Meredith could not operate on either of them even if she wanted to but she could be at Seattle Grace, where she felt most comfortable.

What if something was wrong with Zola? What if Zola never truly trusted her parents again? She was only 18 months old but her parents had told her that they would be back from Boise in one day and she had not seen them in over a week. That was something Meredith's mother would have done and the thought of Zola downing tequila shots and sleeping around made Meredith want to throw-up.

For hours, Meredith tossed and turned, wincing from her ever-present aches and pains, sure that one of her loved ones were dying, sure that a pack of wolves were about to jump out and eat her for dinner.

At approximately 2:00 in the morning, Meredith could take it no longer. She forced herself to sit up in bed and then found herself wandering down the hallway of her house. She walked into the spare bedroom that Alex was occupying at the moment. He was fast asleep, relieved probably, that things were finally turning around.

Meredith poked him in the shoulder and Alex snapped awake. "Huh, what?! What happened?!"

"Hi," Meredith said and sat down on the edge of the bed, like she did with patients.

"Um… hey, are you okay? Do you need anything?" Alex asked. It was Meredith's home but at this moment in time, she was clearly the one who deserved assistance.

"Yeah… I need you to go up to the hospital for me. I'm not allowed to drive yet and even if I was, I'm not sure I really… remember how. I need you to check on Derek and Lexie for me and I need you to bring me some stronger drugs for sedation," Meredith explained.

Alex yawned to further wake himself, rubbed his eyes, and sat up in bed. "Mer… Shepherd's fine and so is Lexie. They would have called you if anything was wrong."

"No, I… I don't know if they would. I think Bailey and… and everyone else is pretty determined to let me sleep tonight and… and anyway, I need to know if they're okay. P-Please, can you please just go up to the hospital and bring me some drugs?" Meredith begged.

"You already have drugs… good drugs," Alex snorted. "Why do you want more; is it really hurting that bad?"

"No, I… I just can't sleep. And I'm not gonna sleep until someone sedates me because I'm pretty sure the trees outside are… well, never mind," Meredith said. She had become aware just how crazy she sounded.

But Alex was nodding slowly, like he figured something like this would happen. "Um… okay, how about… how about we just call up to the ICU? Would that be okay? The nurses can give us a report on Shepherd and Lexie."

"I don't want a nursing report. I want a medical report. Who's on call tonight; do you know?"

"I'll uh… find out," Alex said. "Just give me a minute. Go in my bathroom; there should be some melatonin in the cabinet."

Melatonin was not going to do the job. Melatonin was something that Meredith might have taken after a 24-hour shift when her adrenaline was running too high to sleep. It was not to be used for acute PTSD and Alex had to know that.

Still, he was trying so Meredith did as she was told and went into the bathroom. She swallowed three melatonin tablets at once. It was not enough to harm her and it was not like anyone could argue after that… Meredith had given it her best shot.

When she came back out, Alex was on the phone and the volume was on speaker. Meredith could hear another one of the general surgeons, Dr. Soto speaking: "...and his vitals remain virtually the same. BP is 155/95, pulse is 101 and temperature is 99.3…"

"Okay, and how about Lexie Grey?" Alex pressed.

"Lexie's condition remains the same as well. She's unconscious, in a medically-induced coma and her vitals are steady… 106/62 and pulse is 60."

"Thank you, Dr. Soto," Alex said and then hung-up the phone. "See? Everything's fine."

Meredith stumbled back into her bedroom. She did not like being alone. She obviously did not want to sleep with Alex, literally or figuratively, but she did not want to lie here by herself. She wanted Derek to be home… she wanted someone, anyone lying next to her.

That was not possible right now though so Meredith lay on her back with all the lights turned on, and the melatonin not doing an ounce of good. She told herself that no matter how bad things got, she would not wake-up Alex again so it was with great surprise, at 3:15 in the morning, when Meredith found herself standing in the guest bedroom again, staring down at Alex's snoring body.

Suddenly, the latter startled awake and looked up at Meredith, his expression initially afraid but then simply concerned. "Mer… Mer, what are you doing?"

Meredith had no idea what she was doing; she did not even remember getting out of bed and walking into Alex's room so she said the first thing that came to her mind: "I don't want to be alone."

"Okay… okay, well, I'm not coming in there and sleeping in Shepherd's place on the bed. That… that would just be rude and unfair when he's in the ICU," Alex said.

"I know," Meredith whispered, her voice shaky. She did not want to sleep with Alex, especially not like that, but the idea of going back into her bedroom by herself scared her almost as much as the idea of cheating on Derek.

Alex sighed heavily. "Okay, fine… go ahead and lay down here."

"R-Really?" Meredith asked, her voice still tiny and afraid.

"Yeah, but nothing's happening and I hope you know that. We're going to sleep; that's it."

Meredith nodded; no part of her desired anything close to sex with Alex. She sat down on the guest bed like she was told and then gently slid down onto the mattress and curled onto her side.

Alex laid down, too, and pulled the comforter up and over both of them. And right when Meredith thought that he had fallen asleep, Alex put his arm gently around Meredith's shoulders, holding her close as they both drifted off into oblivion.

**MTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTB**

_She was tripping over random tree roots; branches were scratching her face and arms but none of that mattered. Meredith was sprinting through the woods like her life depended on it._

_Actually, no; that was not quite right. It was not Meredith's life that was so important, that she needed to save. It was Derek's… and Lexie's and Cristina's… those three individuals were the people that Meredith had to rescue, no matter what happened. _

_Meredith was not sure quite how long she was running through the wilderness when she came across a clearing. In that clearing, there was a pile of plane wreckage and next to the plane wreckage, were the unconscious bodies of the three people most special to Meredith… Derek, Lexie, and Cristina. Meredith ran to Derek first and shook him wildly, begging him to awaken but Derek did not stir. It was only once Meredith had grasped his face that she realized there was blood pouring from Derek's head. He was dead. He had probably died a long time ago._

_With tears streaming down her face, Meredith moved onto Lexie and Lexie was still alive but her chest was swelling with blood; it was cardiac tamponade. _

"_What are you waiting for?! You have to save her, Meredith! SAVE HER! " Mark's voice shouted from nearby and Meredith used an instrument, maybe a needle or maybe a hunting knife, to stab Lexie in the chest and release the blood._

_It worked… Lexie's blood poured out of her chest but then it kept coming. The blood was everywhere; Cristina was drowning in it and Mark yelled again, "You killed her, Meredith! You were supposed to save her! YOU KILLED HER!"_

_Meredith looked up from her dead sister's corpse just as the wolves surrounded them and Arizona let out a high-pitched scream…_

"MEREDITH! MEREDITH!"

Meredith's eyes flew open. She was not in the woods. The wolves were nowhere to be seen. It was she, Meredith, that had been screaming at the top of her lungs, not Arizona, and instead of Mark, Alex was sitting next to her in bed with frantic eyes and a white face.

Somehow, Meredith managed to stop screaming but her body was soaked with sweat and paralyzed with fear. She could not have moved from where she was lying on the bed even if Derek's life had depended on it and her chest was heaving painfully with sobs.

"Meredith," Alex repeated and he stroked her hair, carefully. "Mer, you're okay. I'm right here. What happened? God, you scared me half to death."

Meredith was crying so hard that she could barely make out words. "I… I t-t-tried but… it was… D-Derek and… and Lexie… oh… oh, G-God…"

"Okay," Alex said and he reached down where he embraced Meredith, gently. "Okay, well… they're okay. It was just a dream. I'm right here and… and it was just a dream."

But it was not just a dream. That was what made everything so awful… Meredith really had found Derek lying in a pool of his own blood. She had driven a knife into Lexie's chest while Mark screamed at her and the wolves had cornered all of the surgeons that last night in the woods.

To put it simply, Alex's comment only made Meredith's sobs turn into hysterics as she cried, "It… it w-wasn't a d-d-dream… it… it was… r-real…"

"Right, well… that's all gone now. You're safe, here with me and… and Derek and Lexie are up at the hospital and they're fine," Alex said and frowned. "Mer, I need you to breathe for me."

Meredith's breaths were coming out in sharp, ragged gasps which was making her broken ribs throb worse than ever. She could not calm them for anything so Alex jumped up and out of bed; he returned a few seconds later with a standard, brown paper bag which he handed to Meredith. She held it up to her mouth and slowly allowed her respirations to return to normal.

"There you go… that's better," Alex said and he also grabbed a tissue from a nearby box and used it to wipe Meredith's face. "Are you okay? Do you know where you are and everything?"

"I'm… I'm at home," Meredith replied and looked around. It was not her usual sleeping quarters. Meredith had, unfortunately, experienced this revelation before, mostly in college and right after she had first broken-up with Derek. A feeling of ultimate dread filled her from head to toe. "Oh, no…"

"What?" Alex pressed. "What happened; did you hurt yourself?"

"No… oh, God… what did I do?! What did we do?!"

Alex looked confused. "We? We… didn't do anything. What do you mean?"

"I mean… I mean my husband is in the ICU, recovering from a plane crash and I just cheated on him. I… I just cheated on Derek. Oh my God… oh, no…"

This time, though, Alex rolled his eyes. "No, you didn't. You wouldn't do that, Mer. You just didn't want to be alone last night so you came in here to sleep with me… but not like… literally. We just slept in the same bed."

"Are you sure?" Meredith asked. "And are you sure that even makes a difference?"

"Yes, I'm sure and yes, it makes a huge difference. You sleep with Cristina all the time and you're not having sex with her," Alex grinned and then he looked at the alarm clock which was perched on his bedside table. "Well, it's almost 7:00. Do you want to get up?"

Meredith would not have cared if it was 2:00 in the morning; she was not going back to sleep after that nightmare.

She nodded and with Alex's assistance, climbed out of bed, used the bathroom, and got dressed for the day. Meredith was not sure what she was doing yet but she knew that she wanted to make it up to the hospital at some point so she put on a pair of black leggings and a comfortable t-shirt decorated with navy and red stripes. All of Meredith's clothing was relatively loose because she had lost so much weight.

While Alex ran downstairs to begin preparing breakfast, Meredith applied some basic make-up. She did not typically wear beauty products, especially not to the hospital, but she needed to at least make an effort to hide the bruises and lacerations on her face. Meredith blended out several layers of concealer and then wandered down the hallway and into Zola's room. Her daughter was already awake and sitting up in her crib; maybe Meredith's terrorized screams had roused her early.

"Hey, Zo-Zo," Meredith smiled weakly. She was not able to pick up Zola yet because of her rib injuries so Meredith was forced to only select clothes for her child and then wait patiently for Alex to help her, yet again.

By the time that all three of them were fully clothed and ready, it was past 8:00. Alex carried Zola down to the kitchen and set her up in her high-chair while Meredith stumbled behind, somewhat slower. It turned out that Alex had not exactly cooked breakfast… he had opened a package of donuts and heated some leftovers for Zola. Still, this was better than nothing and Meredith ate one bite of her chocolate donut before remembering that food did not taste as good after the plane crash. She tossed the rest in a trash can while Alex was not looking.

"Okay… are we ready?" Meredith asked when she had appeared to finish her breakfast.

Alex shrugged. "Um… I guess so. Where are we going again?"

"To the hospital," Meredith said. She would have thought that would be obvious. Where else would she go when her husband, her sister, and her best friend were still patients in the ICU?

For some reason, though, Alex's expression was skeptical. "I don't know, Mer. Don't you want a break from all that emotional trauma… like, at least for one day? Shepherd would understand. We could go and… I don't know, get massages or something. I think you've earned that."

Meredith shook her head. "No, not… not yet. Maybe later but… not yet. We need to go to the hospital and check on everybody and… and drop Zola off at daycare. Then… then I need to go… um… get some stuff fixed. You know, I have to get some money and… and a new wallet and purse and everything cause it all… got destroyed."

"Oh… yeah, right," Alex said and they headed out the door quietly.

At Seattle Grace, Alex, Meredith, and Zola entered through the emergency room like usual patients did. This was to avoid the masses of journalists and reporters that were still camped out in front of the main entrance. Once they made it through the chaos, Meredith went straight for the elevators and punched the number two which lead her to the complimentary daycare built for hospital employees.

It was beyond awkward walking inside for the first time since the plane crash. Meredith had picked up Zola the day before, but she had not come face to face with any of the daycare workers themselves. As Meredith kissed her daughter goodbye and handed her over to Emily, one of the childcare specialists, she realized that every single adult in the room was staring at her.

Basically, it was like the aftermath of the infamous Seattle Grace shooting all over again but there was a difference. There had been dozens of staff members impacted physically and emotionally from the shooting. A lot of them had been injured themselves or at least seen the gunman, Gary Clark. This time, there were only six individuals who really knew what had happened out in the woods and everyone else's imaginations had been running wild.

When the silence and the staring went on for so long that Meredith was about to have a panic attack, she cleared her throat loudly. "Um… h-here's Zola. I should be back sometime in the early evening."

"Oh… yes, thank you, Dr. Grey," Emily smiled, although it was a bit delayed. "And I do want to tell you how happy I am that you're alright."

_You really think that I'm alright?_ Meredith thought to herself but she did not say that. She just smiled weakly in return and said, "Thank you. I've appreciated all the… the prayers and well-wishes."

Once Zola was distracted, joining in on a game of legos with some of her daycare friends, Meredith snuck out of the childcare facility and found Alex, who was waiting outside. "Ready for the ICU?"

"I guess so. Sloan should be awake by now; he had his skin-graft thing yesterday, right?"

Meredith had forgotten about that. She felt bad because she did genuinely care about Mark, particularly after what they had gone through together, but recently, all of her thoughts had been on Derek and Lexie. Thus far, it appeared that Lexie was going to be fine. She had gotten through all of her most dangerous surgeries; her doctors were just waiting to remove her medically-induced coma and it was Derek that was still in danger of stroking out.

Dr. Soto, the physician that Alex had talked with on the phone last night was still in the ICU when they arrived; it seemed as though he had been waiting for them. Meredith's heart was already beating fast but it instantly began to race as she approached the general surgeon. "How is he?"

"Better," Soto grinned. "His vitals are going down; our last BP reading was 142 over 90. Derek is still in a considerable amount of pain but he's been awake some, asking for you. Would you like to see him?"

"Please," Meredith said; she barely managed to ignore the fact that no one had called when Derek had been voicing his request for her and instead just followed Dr. Soto down the hall to the first room on the left.

Dr. Soto had been correct; immediately, Meredith could see the improvements. Derek's temperature had dropped to 99.1, the lowest it had been since the plane crash and his pulse was 95. He appeared to be asleep but Meredith sat down next to his bed and touched her husband on the face.

Derek's eyes fluttered open and he moaned softly. "W-What…"

"Hi… hey, it's me," Meredith whispered and kissed him on the forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Better now… now you're here," Derek said. He was having trouble keeping his eyes open but from what Meredith could see, he was more alert.

"Yeah, I'm better now, too. I was actually discharged last night but I just came back up here to bug you and Lexie," Meredith said. "You better hang in there, okay? Because remember what we said during the shooting… you dying… that would be the worst break-up ever."

Derek smiled weakly, too. "I'm… I'm not gonna… die. Don't… worry. I… I love you and… and I'm not going anywhere… I promise."

"I love you, too."

"So… does that mean… Lexie, Mark, everyone… they're all okay?" Derek continued.

"Lexie's still in her medically-induced coma but they should be able to wake her up in the next week or so," Meredith explained. "Mark's fine; he's recovering from his skin grafts but should be discharged soon and Arizona has the leg issues but that's not life-threatening. Cristina's damage is all psychological."

The truth was registering. All six surgeons were actually going to survive. They would be traumatized for life and Meredith would never be able to fly again, but everyone was going to live. Maybe, if Webber was right about the potential lawsuit, they would also be making a lot of money if someone was directly responsible for the accident.

But the money did not matter. All that mattered was that Derek, Lexie, Mark, Arizona, Cristina and Meredith were going to survive. And Meredith was too dark and twisty to be relieved; a million things were still so wrong so she kept any tears of happiness inside.

"How's Zola?" Derek asked.

"She's fine. She's great," Meredith said. "She met my dad for the first time yesterday and I met my other sister… you know, Molly."

Derek nodded. "I mean, I… don't really… know her but… do you like her? Is she nice?"

"She seems nice. I feel like I should really love her after the way I grew to love Lexie but I just can't be that big of a person. I don't know her at all," Meredith confessed.

"Yeah well… don't worry. Give it time… you'll grow to love her, I'm sure… just like… just like you did with Lexie," Derek said and now, the exhaustion in his tone was more than evident.

"You're tired," Meredith stated and helped Derek lower his bed back down to a comfortable position. "Get some sleep. I'm gonna go see some of the others and… and I'll be back to visit you again later."

"Okay," Derek agreed. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Meredith said and she took a deep, steadying breath as she walked out of Derek's ICU room where she promptly met Alex.

Alex was interested in visiting the other survivors but he had intentionally given Meredith some alone time with Derek. "How is he?"

"He's better. I mean, he's still critical but he's stable and talking. I just left because he needs to get some rest but I'll come back later," Meredith said.

"Wow… well, that's good. It looks like you all might fight through this thing after all, huh?" Alex grinned.

"I don't know; I don't want to get my hopes up," Meredith admitted. "Come on, let's go see the others."

She limped down the ICU, and first ducked into Cristina's room. Cristina looked almost exactly as she had the day before… lying on the bed, eyes open, staring up at the ceiling.

Owen was sitting in a chair in the corner and startled when Meredith entered. "Hey… no change overnight. I hear Derek's doing better though."

"Yeah, he is," Meredith smiled and she knelt down next to Cristina. "Did they give you a timeline at all? How long until they transfer her to psych?"

"They didn't say. I'm pulling all the strings I can as chief but in a few weeks, next year's interns are gonna be arriving and she'll need to be at Mayo. They're not gonna hold off for her forever," Owen said.

Meredith knew that and she knew that it was selfish, but part of her was hoping that maybe Cristina would continue recovering for a couple more weeks… or that the plane crash would spark the same feelings in Cristina as it did for Meredith and she would decide not to leave Seattle at all. It was unlikely but possible.

The two surgeons sat with Cristina for a few minutes longer. Meredith held her friend's hand and tried to help her to come back to reality but there was no progress and after a while, Meredith moved on. She walked down the hallway and found Mark sitting up in bed.

"It looks like you're feeling better," Meredith said.

"Oh, yeah. A few burns aren't gonna keep me down," Mark said. "I'm just waiting for Bailey to get around here and sign my discharge papers. How's Derek?"

"He's good. I mean, he's critical but he's stable… awake and talking."

"That's awesome. I'll have to see if I can bribe some of the nurses to let me go down there later… annoy my brother."

"I'm sure he would appreciate that," Meredith giggled. "Any news about Lexie or Arizona?"

"Lexie's the same but I'm sure you knew that," Mark said. "Her dad's in there… well, your dad's in there; he hasn't left. And Molly… it's weird. I've been with Lexie for so long but I never met her little sister."

Meredith nodded slowly; it was a weird way of phrasing things: _I've been with Lexie for so long._ Until now, Meredith had forgotten that Mark was in another relationship and that he was going to potentially end it when they got back to Seattle. Maybe that was not the case though. Maybe it only seemed that way when they were all trapped out in the forest, when Mark thought that Lexie was going to die.

"If it makes you feel any better, she's my sister and I hadn't met her until yesterday either," Meredith said.

"That's messed up."

So much was messed up, even if all of the surgeons were going to survive.

"Yeah well… hope you feel better and get out of here soon," Meredith sighed. "It would be nice having someone else that… you know, that went through what we did… out in the real world."

"Definitely," Mark said.

Since Meredith was avoiding Molly and her father, the only person left to visit was Arizona. Meredith was never as close with her as she was with the rest of the group, simply because she spent very little time in pediatrics. It had been Cristina that lived with Callie, and therefore, Arizona. But Meredith still cared about her and so she peeked in the doorway to see if Arizona was awake.

Arizona was certainly awake but she did not look like she was in the mood for additional company. She was arguing loudly with Callie who was standing at the end of her bed: "Well, do we have a plan yet?! Do we?!"

"We are waiting for the infection to improve and then we'll know what options we have," Callie responded, her voice shaky and stressed.

"Well, if the vancomycin isn't working, then put me on colistin. It'll be stronger."

"I understand that it's hard to just…"

"No, you don't! You don't, because you know what your life is going to be. You know if you're going to take her to the park or if you're gonna stand at an O.R. table again…"

Meredith quickly ducked out of the scene. She had been in arguments with Derek before, or with other people, and she always hated when people stood by watching like they were on a television show.

Callie and Arizona needed their privacy so Meredith hurried back down the hall as fast as her injuries would let her and met Alex who was waiting. "So what are you doing? Are you working?"

"Not really," Alex said. "We weren't allowed to operate the whole time you were missing… or at least Torres, Kepner, Avery, and I weren't… I've been using up all my old PTO hours now. I mean, it's not like I'm gonna need them once I'm at Hopkins."

Meredith's heart fell; she was hoping that the plane crash might change Alex's mind too, but there was no reason why it should. He had not been on that plane. Everyone had lived. "So… so you're still going?"

"I mean… eventually, yeah… I have to, Mer," Alex sighed. "I gave them my word."

"Yeah, I gave Brigham my word, too, but I doubt that's happening," Meredith said.

"You're not moving to Boston anymore? Does Shepherd know that?"

Meredith shrugged; they were walking out of the ICU, back down towards the elevators. "I mean… we don't know if Derek is gonna be able to operate again. At the very least, it's going to be postponed. But I can't imagine leaving now. I… can't imagine moving across the country after everything that happened."

"Yeah well, it's a little different for you," Alex said. "You were in the plane crash. They'll understand if you need to rearrange your plans. I think it would be a pretty crappy move on my part if I took the fellowship at Hopkins, made Arizona get on the plane for me, and then backed out."

"You had no idea that plane was going to crash. None of us did… and you wanted to go. You were pissed that Arizona took your spot," Meredith reminded him. "She can't be mad at you for that. I mean, she can be mad at the situation, and I would be, too, but… it's not your fault."

Alex did not answer and he did not have to… Meredith could tell what he was thinking: _Yeah, go ahead and tell Arizona that._

Meredith took another deep breath. "Okay, so… so what now? The bank… and… and all that?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Are you sure you don't want to eat anything first?" Alex asked. "You're skin and bones."

"Um… no, we can… we can eat when we're done. I'm tired of having hospital food," Meredith said and silently prayed that she would develop an appetite by then.

Twenty minutes later, the duo arrived at the local mall. Meredith had planned to come here first so that she would have a wallet to put her money in at the bank but she was obviously not thinking clearly because now, she did not have any money to pay for a wallet.

"Wait," Meredith said after they had walked inside of Macy's and begun browsing through the women's department. "I did something really stupid; I'm sorry."

"It's okay. What's up?" Alex asked.

"We… should have gone to the bank first because… well… I don't have any money," Meredith realized. "Um… we need to leave."

Alex shook his head. "Nah, don't worry about it. I got it. You can pay me back once you get your shit together."

Meredith nodded shakily. "Okay… we need to go to the DMV, too so I can get a new driver's license. I know I can't drive yet but I feel weird not having an ID."

"Yeah, okay. Let's do it."

Still, Meredith tried to finish her shopping quickly for Alex, who was being exceptionally good about everything, driving his friend around and paying for her items. Plus, Meredith herself was feeling strange in public, amongst strangers who had no idea what she had endured in the last week.

It turned out that the world had continued to prevail after all. Out in the forest, Meredith had wondered if the apocalypse had come early, if perhaps civilization had ceased to exist but there were lots of people out here whose biggest worries consisted of their work schedules… who had possibly heard of the lost surgeons but not given them any special thought.

In the end, Meredith decided a simple, maroon-colored wallet would do the job as well as any. She also selected a beige purse that was not too frilly or girly; it cost more than she would have liked at 120 dollars but she would be paying Alex back.

At the last minute, Meredith also spotted a display of phone cases and picked out a red one that matched her wallet. The last thing Meredith needed was to break her new phone.

Alex paid for everything up at the counter which came to a grand total of 211 dollars. As the woman working the register rung them up, she smiled at Alex. "Treating your wife? Is it her birthday or something?"

Meredith froze. Why would this woman say such a thing? Alex was not even close to being that kind of partner for Meredith; he was not wearing a wedding ring. Meredith's husband was currently in the ICU fighting for his life.

But then Meredith took a deep breath and composed herself. The woman working at Macy's was only making small talk, doing her job. And for once, Meredith actually was wearing her ring. She usually left it off; Meredith was not a big fan of jewelry and rings were pointless when one was in surgery all day.

The ring that Derek had given her almost three years ago now, though… it had survived the plane crash. Meredith had not worn it to Boise and considering the fact that Derek was in the ICU, it seemed like an appropriate time to wear the thing.

"Oh, uh… no, she's not my wife," Alex answered the woman after a brief pause. "She's just a friend and she's damn well paying me back for all this."

They left Macy's as quickly as possible. The bank was much less intimidating than the mall. Meredith was able to complete her paperwork there quietly, and they gave her a temporary debit card to use until her new one came in the mail. Meredith withdrew 350 dollars in cash and then promptly handed 200 of it over to Alex who appeared skeptical.

"It's… okay, Mer. Here, I'll just take 100. You can use the rest for… I don't know. Buy something for Shepherd or Lexie."

"Just take the damn money, Alex," Meredith said and she pressed the remaining dollars into his hand. "I don't need another person feeling sorry for me."

The DMV took less time than the bank. Somehow, Meredith managed to arrive during a rare, slow period and she filled out some more paperwork before paying 35 dollars to have her lost license replaced.

For some reason, Meredith had completely forgotten that she would need to have a new photo taken for her license and she felt wrong standing in front of the blue backdrop while a camera flashed in her face. She was pretty sure that her expression in the picture was pained more than anything.

"Let's try one more time," the person behind the counter said after the first snapshot and Meredith rolled her eyes; the photo had to have been awful if the DMV was giving her a second chance. "Try to smile, sweetheart. It's not that bad."

_You have no idea,_ Meredith thought to herself but she managed to press a small, tight smile onto her face for the second click of the camera.

"There we go," the DMV woman said and printed a sheet of paper that Meredith would use as her temporary license. "You can use that until your real card comes in the mail. Try to keep better track of it this time."

Meredith had checked a box on her paperwork that said she had lost her license. It was true even though it had not been Meredith's fault.

Before she could help herself, she responded to the woman: "I didn't lose it like that. I was in an accident and my old license was… destroyed."

She assumed that the DMV would think Meredith had been in a car crash but all of a sudden, a look of recognition came over the woman's face. "Wait… are you one of those surgeons that were in the plane crash?"

Meredith opened her mouth to reply again but nothing came out so she just picked up her paper and paced out of the DMV, leaving Alex to deal with the situation himself.

"Okay, so what now?" Alex said once he had quieted the chaos in the DMV and joined Meredith in his Volvo. "Dinner? What sounds good?"

Meredith had told Alex that they could go out for food earlier because she had not wanted to eat at the hospital but unfortunately, her appetite had not returned. "Um… I'm sorry. I'm not really hungry."

"Do you wanna go back up to the hospital and check on everybody?" Alex guessed.

It was almost 4:00 in the evening by this point so it was understandable why Meredith would want to visit her loved ones. Derek was likely waiting on his wife to return, but Meredith had been sapped of all motivation to do anything. "Not really… can't we just… I don't know…"

"Do you wanna go see if Dr. Wyatt can see you?" Alex suggested; Dr. Wyatt was Meredith's therapist who she would have to see eventually.

But not now. Meredith was not ready to talk now. "No, I… I can't…"

She was being difficult and she knew that but Meredith was not used to having free time and even if she was, she usually had people to spend it with... and the people that Meredith normally hung out with were all in the ICU.

"Do you want to go home? Get some rest? I know you didn't sleep too well last night," Alex said, trying one more time and Meredith flashed back to the images that had coursed through her brain while she was sleeping.

_Running through the forest, screaming Derek's name… finding him in a pool of blood… slamming a rock, breaking his hand… finding Jerry dead in the cockpit… realizing they were going to run out of water long before they were rescued… the wolves ripping apart human flesh…_

The panic had hit Meredith out of nowhere, all over again.

"No… I don't know… I don't know where… I want to go," Meredith whispered and then thought to herself, _Why was I okay after the shooting but I'm not okay now?_

And then Meredith realized that she had said this out loud because Alex had looked at her. "God, um… I don't know, Mer. I don't know but… I don't think there really has to be a reason. What can I do?"

Meredith just shook her head, not directly answering Alex's question. "I… I didn't even… get shot and… Derek almost died then. Lexie had… a breakdown. You got shot and I shouldn't… I don't know why I'm not okay…"

"It doesn't matter why you're not okay. You just… aren't and… we can do something about that," Alex said. "We can do whatever you want. We can go back to the hospital or we can go home. We can go get Zola… we can call Dr. Wyatt; personally, I think that would be a good idea…"

"I don't want to see Dr. Wyatt," Meredith said and then she found herself beginning to hyperventilate. It was like her chest was going to cave in and she knew that this was an anxiety attack; Meredith was a doctor and she had had them before but not like this… she could not catch her breath; she was sobbing but no tears were coming out.

"Mer… Mer, shh," Alex said and he reached forward. In one quick moment, Meredith was in his arms and he was rocking her gently in the front seat of his Volvo. "It's okay. You're going to be okay; I promise."

"B-B-But… oh, God… L-Lexie… D-Derek," Meredith cried, foolishly. Only hours ago, she had been emotional in the ICU out of relief because Derek was going to make it and Lexie was going to be fine. Everyone was going to live; why was Meredith feeling like this?

She had to have been sitting there with Alex for almost twenty minutes when Meredith finally leaned her head up and realized that tears had found their way out of her eyes; she had soaked the shoulder of Alex's t-shirt. "I'm… I'm s-sorry…"

"Stop it. Don't apologize. Whatever you need from me, I'm here. Do you wanna go see Shepherd? It uh… it seems like… I mean, that might… help," Alex said.

"I t-told you… I d-don't… know…"

"You don't know what you want," Alex finished and grabbed a box of tissues from the backseat of his car which he handed to Meredith. "Okay, well… that's okay. I'll make the decisions; does that sound okay? I vote… that we go to the hospital and visit Shepherd."

It was as good of a plan as Meredith was going to come up with; she nodded. "Yeah, okay."

On the drive back to Seattle Grace, Meredith attempted to clean up. She blew her nose and drank some water because if she was not going to eat, it was important to at least stay hydrated. Nevertheless, when Alex pulled into the parking lot outside of the emergency room, Meredith slipped on a pair of sunglasses that she had worn from home today to hide her red eyes. She did not need the paparazzi taking photographs of that.

_**Yeah, I know that was super long lol but there was just no good place to break the chapter. Hope you enjoyed, please don't forget to follow/favorite and review; it means SO much to me! **_

_**In case anyone was wondering, yes, the name of the daycare employee was named Emily after one of my Twitter followers and supporters. Thank you to Emily and let me know if you want your name included in my story as a minor character!**_

_**The next chapter will include an update on the other plane crash survivors including Mark, Arizona, and Cristina! Thank you so much for reading! Xoxo, merderpedia :)**_


	19. Breathe

_**Author's Note- Thank you so much for all of the continued support for this story! This chapter is going to consist of updates from the other plane crash survivors. The first part of the chapter is from Arizona's POV and then the next part is from Mark's POV and the last is from Cristina's POV. Don't worry, this is not a permanent thing and MerDer will be back soon.**_

_**Also, I know that so far this story might not seem to have much plot; it's just ongoing suffering but trust me, I have an entire outline in place and this story is going to go through what would be the Grey's Anatomy season 9 finale. With that being said, I hope you enjoy! **_

Arizona had scared the resident who first told her that she was being flown back to Seattle from Boise. She had wanted to be transferred, of course; Arizona was more than eager to get away from the pathetic excuse for a hospital that was Boise Memorial but not like this. Arizona wanted to be driven back to Seattle, in a car or perhaps a bus. Arizona would have gladly gotten on board a train… but an aircraft?

It was out of the question and Arizona had screamed and whined about it for so long that Dr. Lee eventually had to increase her morphine and knock her out. When Arizona woke-up, she was fully intending on continuing her argument but to her surprise, found herself in a completely new ICU room. Callie was asleep in a nearby recliner.

Blinking a few times from the drowsiness, Arizona cleared her throat and when that did not work, spoke as loudly as she could: "Callie…"

Immediately, her wife opened her eyes and grinned huge. "Hey! You're awake. How are you feeling?"

"What happened?" Arizona asked, not bothering to answer Callie's question. "Did they switch me to another room? They should have talked with me about it first."

Callie laughed. "They didn't need to talk with you about it, silly. You'd been asking to go for days. You're back home; you're in Seattle."

Arizona looked around. Now that she thought about it, the room setup and decorations were oddly familiar. She was a patient in the ICU that she had worked in for years. "H-How did we get here?"

"We flew," Callie admitted. "Don't worry; you were sedated the whole time. Everyone was… or all the survivors were, anyway. I wish I could have been sedated; let me tell you but… but there was no other option because of your leg."

"I see," Arizona said. She had a feeling that she was supposed to be really angry about this but she was still under the influence of the anesthesia and not completely thinking right.

Over the next few hours, though, Arizona would wake-up. She would begin to feel the full extent of her pain and she would drive her own residents crazy, begging for more pain medication and antibiotics every ten minutes. They never seemed to comply and Arizona screamed at them from her ICU bed.

"This is supposed to be one of the top ten teaching hospitals in the country and you can't even get me a little morphine?!"

"Dr. Robbins, please; there are very sick people here and you know that," one of the residents said at one point. "Can you please try to quiet down?"

Arizona was stunned and threw her hands up in the air. "Really sick people?! I'm really sick and I'm telling you, I need morphine!"

"You are already maxed out on morphine!" the resident shouted back.

"Why are you screaming at me?! You're not supposed to scream at patients!" Arizona yelled but the resident had run away, too afraid to do their job correctly and so Arizona turned to Callie, who had not left her side. "What am I doing wrong? Am I doing something wrong?"

Callie shook her head, a sympathetic expression on her face. "No, of course not, baby. You're in pain and pain can make anyone act unreasonably. Do you remember what I was like after all my surgeries last year?"

Arizona did remember. She had accidentally caused a car crash that nearly killed the love of her life and their, at the time, unborn baby. Callie and Sofia had both almost died during their series of surgeries and then, even once they were out of the woods, Callie had been miserable for weeks. Arizona did not mind because she knew that Callie was in pain but it was still tiresome to deal with…

A few hours after Arizona had woken-up in Seattle, Dr. Carlson, the best orthopedic surgeon at Seattle Grace, other than Callie, knocked on her door. "Good afternoon, Dr. Robbins. How are you feeling?"

"Like I have a broken femur," Arizona said. It was the same thing that she had said to the staff at Boise but it was the truth. What else was Arizona supposed to focus on?

Dr. Carlson smiled kindly. "Yes, I know. That is what we're aiming to fix, isn't it? I'm honored to say that I have taken over your case from Dr. Lee at Boise Memorial. And I'm doing to do absolutely everything I can to help get you back to as much of your former self as possible."

"And that includes keeping my leg, correct?" Arizona confirmed.

"Well, like I said, I'm going to do everything possible. I can never guarantee anything and you know that; you're a surgeon, too, but I will do everything I can to save your leg. Still, I think you would rather lose your leg than your life; am I right?" Dr. Carlson assumed.

Maybe it should have been an easy decision to make. Arizona had told patients that same thing countless times: _I know the thought of losing your leg seems terrible now but it is amazing what they can do with prosthetics these days. It's better to lose your leg than your life. Trust me, you will be able to live a fairly normal life, even without one of your limbs._

Everything was different now that Arizona was the patient though. She did not care how amazing prosthetics had become… she wanted to keep her leg. She needed to keep her leg.

Throughout the afternoon, Arizona spent a lot of time talking with a lot of doctors. Dr. Carlson was always in and out, but some of the other orthopedic attendings and residents were around, too… consulting, learning, and not doing a very good job of hiding their thoughts.

Whenever there were not additional faces in the room, Arizona tried to communicate with Callie but it was hard. It seemed like Callie was trying to do everything she could, too, to avoid the subject of potential amputation.

Finally, after hours of listening to various treatment plans, Arizona was put on a strong course of fresh antibiotics- vancomycin this time. And then she and Callie were left alone.

"Be honest with me," Arizona said to her wife. "Do you think they're going to try and amputate my leg?"

"They're probably going to suggest it again because honestly, I do think it's the best idea," Callie said, far more bluntly than Arizona wanted or expected. But then Callie continued: "But it's not the only plan either. I mean, you know as well as I do that amputating your leg now would kill the infection and there would be a shorter recovery process. But that's not what you want to do and… and that's okay."

According to Arizona, Callie still did not sound convincing but they were suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice that had arrived in their doorway… so much for being alone.

"Hey."

It was Alex Karev… Alex Karev, who was supposed to be the pediatric surgeon on that plane. Alex Karev, who should be lying here in this bed, considering his options…

"Hey," Arizona choked out in return and did everything she could to not meet his eyes.

"Uh, sorry I haven't been around," Alex said. "I, uh… just wanted to let you know that I gave, uh, Chunky Stu… uh, sorry, Stuart his intestinal transplant. It went great. He's responding well."

Stuart had been a long term patient of Arizona's and it was going to be her job to finish off his care but now, that was clearly out of the question. It was Alex Karev that was treating Stuart and the only thing Arizona could manage to say was, "Oh…"

"Uh, and I know that you like to do that thing where you bring him his favorite food in a couple weeks when he can handle solids so it's uh… it's Hawaiian pizza," Alex continued. "I just thought I should tell you…"

"Thank you," Arizona said.

There was a long, awkward pause. Arizona had been trying not to look at her former student but curiosity got the best of her and she glanced shortly. Alex's face was pink; it appeared that he was attempting to not look at her either.

Finally, after a virtual staredown, Alex sighed. "I feel like crap. It should've been me on that plane. If I could trade places with you, I would."

"I would let you," Arizona replied and Callie snorted like it had been a joke but there was no sarcasm intended. Arizona's statement was the complete and utter truth.

She continued: "I had that thought a lot, too. And I didn't like myself for it, but I did. I kept thinking about my wife and baby and how you had no wife and no baby. You had no one. I only went on that plane because I was pissed at you. So I kept wondering… I'm only here because he's so selfish and thoughtless. And no matter how hard I tried to make him better, he's still a horrible person. So now I keep wondering why this would happen to someone like me… instead of someone like you. So I guess I'm still pretty pissed off."

Alex was not avoiding Arizona's glare now; in fact, he was returning the glare because he had no shame… because like Arizona had told him, he was a terrible person that should have his leg cut off just as a punishment for what he had done.

Arizona could not stand to look at him… or to avoid him for a second longer; she snapped. "Would you get out of my room?!"

It did not take convincing; Alex spun around and paced out into the ICU hallway. That was not a surprise. Alex was a coward and Arizona had a feeling that if it was actually possible for them to switch places, that Alex would run away. He would insist that it was not his fault. He would try to put the blame on a poor woman who might potentially lose her leg…

_You need to stop thinking about him,_ Arizona told herself and she leaned back on her pillows. She tried to focus on the television, instead of Callie whose shock was evident on her face. The television was portraying _The Weather Channel_ and it was telling the world that rain was expected in Seattle, per usual.

It was impossible not to think about Alex though… it was impossible not to think of the idiot who Arizona thought she had turned into a decent person… the person who was supposed to accept the fellowship at Seattle Grace and stay at Seattle Grace for his entire career because he owed that to Arizona. He was not supposed to ditch her without a _thank you _and run off to Hopkins…

Arizona slept intermittently that night. Part of her was relieved to be home in Seattle at last, with adequate doctors and her loved ones, but it was so hard to sleep when the possibility of leg amputation was hanging over her. She just wanted to know that the vancomycin was doing its job, that the infection was clearing up… then Arizona would be able to sleep off this nightmare.

The nightmares were not over now that Arizona was out of the woods though. During the few hours that she did manage to sleep in the ICU, her mind was flooded with images from the plane crash… _waking-up to her femur sticking out of her leg… watching the lone helicopter fly away… seeing Lexie wither away in front of her eyes and Derek Shepherd vomiting blood…_

On more than one occasion, Arizona woke-up, screaming and crying but every time that this happened, her beautiful wife, Callie was there to comfort her.

The next morning started out good. Arizona had a feeling that someone must have listened to her and increased her morphine overnight because the pain had subsided enough for her to eat a decent breakfast which consisted of scrambled eggs and strawberry yogurt. And then, around 9:00, while Callie had to go meet with someone that was temporarily taking over her surgeries, Bailey stopped by with Sofia who was extremely happy to see her second mommy.

For a little while, it was almost like the plane crash had never happened. Arizona ignored any pain that she felt because the existence of her daughter was much more important. It was not until Callie had returned from her conference and Bailey was preparing to take Sofia back to daycare that reality hit Arizona. Something had to change.

"You need to take her to the park more."

No, it had absolutely nothing to do with the approaching surgeries that could determine Arizona's future but this was what was on her mind. Callie looked confused so the former continued: "She goes from that apartment to the daycare. She's indoors all day."

"Okay, yeah…" Callie began but now Arizona could not stop.

"We should… we should get a house."

"Whoa, slow down…"

"Then she could have a yard and she doesn't have to be inside all the time…"

"Hey!" Callie interrupted Arizona's ongoing rant. "Hey, hey, hey. What's wrong?"

Arizona sighed and barely kept the tears inside because there was something in Callie's face that told her the truth and the truth was, that nobody had really formulated a plan for Arizona. No one other than Arizona had honestly talked about treatment that did not include amputation. She was suddenly so afraid that the vancomycin was not doing anything for her infection and that after all this work, she was going to have her leg chopped off.

"Do we have a plan yet?" Arizona whispered and Callie only stared at her wife. "Do we?"

"We… are waiting for the infection to improve and then we will know what options we have," Callie said in a voice so level that it sounded fake.

"Well, if the vancomycin isn't working, then put me on colistin. It'll be stronger," Arizona instructed.

Callie sighed, too. "I understand that it's hard to… to just…"

"No, you don't!" Now it was Arizona's turn to interject. "You don't because you know what your life is going to be. You know if you're going to take her to the park or if you're gonna stand at an OR table again!"

"You will," Callie insisted. "Of course you will."

"I know what my options are," Arizona continued. "And the longer we wait, the more that my vascularity diminishes, the more the nerves die, the more the muscle atrophies, and then there's only one option left!"

Callie was an outstanding orthopedic surgeon and she had to know this but she continued to shake her head. "Okay, we are so far from that happening…"

"D-Do something, Callie! You need to do something. Please… p-please don't give up on me!" Arizona begged and she was sobbing now, out of nowhere. All of the emotions that she had kept bottled up for so long were pouring out.

"Arizona, I'm not," Callie repeated.

"P-Promise… p-promise me… you won't let them take my leg."

There was a pause. Callie hesitated and the two lovers stared at each other, their professional knowledge mixing with their personal lives. But then Callie took her wife's hand and she nodded. "I promise. I do. I promise, okay? I promise you."

All of the air rushed out of Arizona's lungs, in relief. "Okay… okay, I trust you."

She was going to keep her leg. She was going to glide down these halls once more in her roller-sneakers. And most importantly, she was going to keep Callie.

Arizona laid back against her pillows and beckoned towards her wife. "Get up here with me. I want you to hold me… I… I want to hold you."

This time, no negotiating was required. Callie immediately crawled onto the mattress, leaned over, and pressed her lips to Arizona's…

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"Oh, come on, doc. There's a reason that they call you the nazi around here, you know!"

Miranda Bailey was smirking at Mark and even before she spoke, the latter knew that he stood no chance in hell. "I am well aware of that, Dr. McSteamy but I am also aware of the fact that you are a doctor, too and that you are two days removed from your skin graft surgery with a fractured ankle and a concussion. I am ninety percent sure that if you were in my position, you would not send me home either, no matter how much you might like to get rid of me."

"That's… that's beside the point," Mark stuttered but again, he knew that he had no shot.

Dr. Bailey only laughed as she turned around and headed back into the ICU, leaving Mark with nothing resembling discharge papers.

It was really stupid because Mark felt fine. His pain was manageable, with the help of medication and he was very eager to get home and help Callie with Sofia. He was eager to show everyone that he was healthy and recovered from the plane crash.

But more than anything, Mark wanted to get next door and see Lexie. Everyone had been providing him with regular updates but Mark wanted to see her and know for himself that she was alive. Mark wanted to kiss her and tell her how much he loved her even if Lexie was in a medically-induced coma and unable to hear anything.

Meredith had stopped by, barely an hour ago. That was nice, Mark guessed… he was not especially close with Meredith but she was his best friend's wife and the sister of his one true love. It was good to know that Meredith was healthy enough to be discharged. It was good to know that Derek was improving.

Mark took a deep breath. He had been doing that a lot lately because when he first wokeup from surgery, it had hurt to breathe deeply. Now though, Mark was telling himself that if he kept pushing himself a little more every day, it would hurt less and he would get out of here sooner.

_And breathe… just breathe,_ Mark thought to himself. It was a basic instruction that came from doctors millions of times but it also happened to be the lyrics to one of Lexie's favorite songs.

_Lexie… Alexandra Caroline Grey…_

Suddenly, Mark knew he needed to do something for Lexie even if he could not get out of bed yet. He picked-up the phone on his bedside table and punched a few buttons until he was connected with the gift shop.

"Hi, this is Mark Sloan reporting from the ICU," Mark said when Patsy, one of his favorite employees picked-up the other end. "If you're not too busy, I'd like to order some items to be sent to room 404."

Patsy was always a nice person but she was being exceptionally sweet to everyone ever since the plane crash. Life was short. "Oh, of course, Dr. Sloan, of course… and I still have your credit card number on file here so don't worry about that… what would you like to send?"

"Well, let's do some flowers for sure… red roses if you have them," Mark requested. "And do you still have the balloons shaped like hearts?"

"We do," Patsy replied. "They're pink though, not red… but yes, we do have the red roses as well, if you would like both of those."

"Yeah, definitely… let's do the red roses, two of the pink balloons, and then some kind of balloon that says _Get Well… _maybe something purple cause… cause it's for Lexie Grey and… and she likes purple," Mark decided.

There was some faint clicking as Patsy typed all of this into her computer. "Alright, sounds good, Dr. Sloan. Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"No, I think that's it," Mark said but at the last second, he changed his mind. "Actually, actually one more thing… can you maybe send up one of the warm, fuzzy blankets that we have? Purple's good if we have one… if not, then blue."

"I can definitely do that. Thank you so much, Dr. Sloan and I just wanted to tell you that we've all been praying for you down here," Patsy said.

"Thanks, sweetheart," Mark smiled and then they hung-up.

No sooner had Mark put his phone back on its receiver though, that there was another knock on his doorway and one of the nurses, Jenna peeked in at him. "Hi, Dr. Sloan. Are you feeling up for a visitor?"

"Who is it?" Mark asked. The only real visitors he had gotten since the plane crash were fellow surgeons… Callie, Meredith, and various other co-workers. Thatcher had stopped by once, along with Carolyn Shepherd, but at this point, Mark had expected all of them to be with their respective families.

"It's a woman; she says that her name is Julia Canner and apparently your girlfriend?"

_Julia… _up until now, Mark had completely forgotten about Julia. Well, okay, he had not forgotten about her but Mark had been so focused on Lexie; he had known since the plane went down that he was going to return to Lexie… honestly, the only thoughts Mark had had regarding Julia were ones where he wondered how he was going to break-up with her.

And now Julia was here, under the impression that her boyfriend was eager to see her and Mark had just ordered an array of presents from the gift shop for Lexie.

"Um… right, yeah… okay," Mark muttered and took another deep breath, readying himself. He nodded at Jenna. "Yeah, go ahead and send her in."

It only took milliseconds, or at least it seemed that way. Mark had barely managed to pull himself up in bed and put on an embarrassed smile before Julia burst into the room and rushed over to Mark, promptly kissing him on the lips.

"Oh my God, baby! Oh my God; I am so sorry. I wanted to come to Boise, I really did but I got pulled into a trauma here and then they didn't want to let me in because I wasn't family," Julia cried. "B-But I love you; I love you so much and I'm so glad that you're okay!"

Mark had never seen his girlfriend so hysterical, so extroverted about her love for him and now was not exactly the ideal time for this shift to occur. Mark sighed. "Yeah… yeah, um… I'm okay. I officially know what it's like to have skin grafts and my ankle's jacked-up but… yeah, I'll be fine. There was fortunately no damage to my face."

Julia sat down in a chair next to his bed and wiped at the tears that were pouring from her eyes. "Thank God… I've been so worried, baby. And I brought you something, look!"

Quickly, Julia opened her purse… a purse that Mark had bought for her… and pulled out a greeting card with an overly affectionate dog on the front. Julia propped it up on Mark's bedside table and grinned. "I put on my red lipstick… you know, the dark red shade that you love and… and I kissed the inside. That way it's like I'm here even when I'm not here… but I swear, I am going to be here for you as much as I can. I'm going to take a leave of absence from Seattle-Pres and everything."

_A leave of absence… _the truth dawned on Mark and he realized that he could not procrastinate any longer. He had to end things right here and now, no matter how much he liked Julia, because it was not fair to either of them to continue living this lie together.

Mark reached forward and took one of Julia's hands, softly. "Look, Jules… I need to… to talk to you about… something… and I just wanna say ahead of time that I'm sorry."

"Um… okay," Julia said. She did not look particularly nervous.

"I am so, so sorry," Mark repeated. "But I… I have to end this. I have to break-up with you. And I wish I didn't have to because I really, really like you… I think I might even love you… but…"

"But nothing!" Julia interrupted. "Stop… if you love me and I love you, then there is no reason why we have to break-up. Is this because I didn't come to see you sooner? Baby, I… I tried to and…"

"This has nothing to do with that," Mark assured her.

Julia shook her head, wildly and there were fresh tears in her eyes but this time, the tears were not coming from a state of happiness. "Then why?! Mark, I will do anything. I will be anything you want me to be… is this about us having kids because we don't have to…"

"Stop," Mark said and he touched Julia on the arm. "This isn't because of the kids. You didn't do anything wrong. It's just not fair to you or to me or to anyone because… because the truth is, I'm still in love with Lexie. I love Lexie and I want to marry her."

"Lexie, the girl down the hall?! The girl that hit me in the boob with a softball and was in the plane crash with you?!" Julia gasped. "Mark, you swore you were over her! You told me… you said I had nothing to worry about!"

"I… I know… but…"

"But the plane crash changed things?! You guys almost died together so the emotions ran high and… and boom?!" Julia guessed. "Mark, we don't even know if Lexie is going to make it! She's over there in her room, unconscious and on a ventilator! And just so you're aware… you're not always going to feel the way you did in the plane crash! Things are gonna change and… and when you come running back to me, I… I won't be here!"

Mark nodded solemnly. "I know… I know and like I said, I'm sorry. Even if Lexie doesn't live past tomorrow though, you deserve better. You deserve someone that isn't still in love with a dead girl. And to be perfectly honest, the plane crash didn't change anything. I was still in love with Lexie; I have been this whole time… it just… it made me aware of my own feelings."

Julia did not say anything else. She sat there and continued to glare at Mark for another ten seconds, furious and heartbroken, crying and raging. Then she got up, kissed Mark on the lips one more time, and stormed out of the ICU.

That could have gone better.

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Cristina was back in Seattle. That much she knew. She knew that they had made it back to Seattle Grace Mercy Death several days ago and that ever since their arrival, several of her other fifth-year residents had been in and out of her ICU room.

April, Jackson, and Alex had all been initially, thrilled to see her alive but their joy was soon overtaken by fear when they saw the state that Cristina was in, mentally. Meredith had not looked great herself, from what Cristina could remember, but nevertheless, she had pleaded with Cristina to get up and react so that she would not be sent to the psych ward.

At this point, though, Cristina was not sure if she would mind going to the psych ward. If she was in the looney bin, she would at least be safe, in all likelihood. She would not be expected to care for anyone else like she had been for the last week.

It was hard to believe that Cristina thought the shooting would be the worst thing that ever happened to her. And it still might be… she had been forced to operate on Derek Shepherd at gunpoint. At least the shooting itself only lasted for an hour though. The plane crash had gone on for four long days and nights…

Every time that Cristina thought she might be able to return to her normal self, the images flashed before her eyes all over again… _Lexie trapped underneath the plane's engine… Meredith running off into the woods to look for Derek… the bugs nesting themselves in Arizona's wound… Cristina forcing herself to stay awake when everyone else had fallen asleep and drinking her own urine to remain alive…_

It might have been two days or two weeks since the surgeons had returned to Seattle when Cristina was lying on her back as usual and heard the door to her room open and close. She assumed that it was one of the ICU nurses, here to take her vitals and complain about her existence in the ICU like Cristina could not hear them at all.

And okay, to be honest, Cristina had done the same thing before. There had been plenty of occurrences in the past when psych patients had been kept in the ICU until the drugs made their way out of their systems or their blood pressure went down.

She was not proud of it but Cristina had mouthed off in front of said patients: _They're taking up beds for someone that's really hurt. I'm a surgeon, not a junky babysitter. When are we ever going to start discharging these people to homeless shelters where they belong?_

Somehow, it was different when Cristina was the patient… when the nurses she had worked with countless times in the past muttered to each other: _Never would have thought Yang would be the one to break. The only reason we still have to deal with her is because she's married to the Chief of Surgery. _

It was agonizing yet Cristina was numb and she was not sure if she was going to be capable of feeling ever again.

This time, however, it was not one of those judgy nurses that walked into Cristina's room. It was her mother, Helen Rubenstein who was possibly even worse. Cristina's mother had been in and out of her daughter's room the past few days, both in Boise and Seattle but she never said anything worth listening to, and Cristina herself never opened her mouth.

"Hey… hey, Cristina," Helen said, like she had a thousand times before and Cristina let her eyes travel over to her mother who perked up a little. "Hey! You're awake. Good, you can talk to me."

That was pushing things. Cristina had no desire to talk with anyone, much less this woman who sighed at her daughter's lack of response. "You need to get up now. I'm serious, this has gone on long enough. Get up, snap out of it, there is nothing wrong with you."

_There is nothing wrong with you?_ This was a new low, even for someone like Helen Rubenstein. Cristina wanted to get up and scream at her mother; she wanted to run the hell away from this awful, dangerous place but Cristina could not move or speak or think about anything other than being trapped in the woods.

There had been so many stars…

"Okay, this is it," Cristina's mother continued, sharply. "I am not dealing with this anymore. I am not sitting here, away from my husband and away from my work for you when you will not acknowledge my existence. I am going home. If you ever decide to try and accomplish anything again, let me know… or don't. What do I care?!"

Cristina watched as her mother stomped away, back out into the ICU. She observed her mother saying something to one of the nurses who rolled her eyes and nodded in agreement. Cristina wished that she could pick up something… anything… and throw it through the glass window that was separating her from the rest of the world.

It was impossible. Cristina could not move. Cristina needed to get out but Cristina could not get out.

Perhaps it was one day later, one week later, or one month later that Owen came into Cristina's room and sat down next to her bed. Cristina was not sure because all of the days blurred together in her mind but she knew that Owen had not been to see her for a long time. Maybe he was scared of her.

Cristina tried to open her mouth and speak to him. She wanted to ask Owen so many questions… how much time had passed since they were rescued from the woods? Was Cristina's broken collarbone healing appropriately? Were the other plane crash victims all still alive?

Was Meredith alive? Meredith had to be alive…

Not being able to talk was frightening. At least, after the shooting, Cristina had been able to talk. She had gotten married. Now, Cristina could not do anything and it was unacceptable, especially for a surgeon of her caliber.

Owen was not saying anything either. Actually, if Cristina's vision was working correctly, it looked as if Owen had only come into her ICU room to take a nap. He was leaning his head back in his chair, putting his guard down.

Cristina managed to moan softly; it sounded like a cross between a sigh and a whimper.

Immediately, Owen sat up. "Did you say something? Are you trying to say something?"

Cristina stared back at her husband and felt a single tear trickle out of one of her eyes.

"It's okay," Owen said. He scooted closer and took one of Cristina's hands. "It's okay; I'm right here. You're safe. Do you know where you are?"

_Seattle Grace Mercy Death… _Cristina knew that much. She knew that she was at this dreaded hospital and because of that fact, Cristina knew that she was not safe. She needed to get out. She could not get out…

Owen sighed and rubbed his eyes. "You're home… well, you're at the hospital, at Seattle Grace. You've been home for a while now, for over a week and we're all trying to help you but you're… you're not responding. Do you think you could respond for me? Do you think you could talk to me? I… I know, it's hard but…"

Cristina tuned out the rest of Owen's speech. He did not know. He had no idea what was going through his wife's head and to be fair, Cristina did not either but she knew more than him. Owen had not been out there in the woods for four days. He had not watched as the wolves tried to eat Lexie alive. He had not listened to Meredith screaming at the top of her lungs when Derek had lost consciousness. Owen did not know what it was like to wait for help and then have help never come.

_**Yay! Mark and Julia are officially broken up! Hopefully that makes up for the rest of the chapter being so depressing lol and I'm sorry again if my writing isn't very good in the Arizona segment. I don't know why, I just have a hard time thinking about things from her point of view.**_

_**Shoutout to one of my biggest supporters, Patsy! I hope you enjoyed seeing your name in the story as the gift shop employee. Haha.**_

_**Anyway, thank you for reading! Please don't forget to favorite/follow, and leave reviews. They seriously mean so much to me! In the next chapter, Meredith will be starting therapy with Dr. Wyatt and you can look forward to a conversation between the McBrothers and some MerDer love.**_

_**Love you all. Xoxo, merderpedia :)**_


	20. Would I Lie to You?

_**Author's Note- Welcome back, everyone :) Sorry for the delay in getting this up. Just so you know, most of this chapter will be told from Meredith's POV but there is a short segment in the middle that is from Derek's POV. I hope you enjoy!**_

On Sunday night, four days after the plane crash survivors had returned to Seattle, Meredith received a text from Bailey. The message was short and simple: _You have your first therapy appointment with Dr. Wyatt at 1:00 tomorrow afternoon._

Meredith was not sure how she felt about the prospect of therapy. She knew that it was necessary, of course, and that Dr. Wyatt had helped her in the past, but despite her recurring nightmares, Meredith had no desire to talk about what had happened in the woods. She wanted more time… she wanted to self-medicate and more than anything, Meredith wanted to be able to control her own schedule. She wanted to decide if and when she was ready to confess to her traumas.

It did not sound like Meredith was going to have much of an option though, not if she wanted to get refills on her Hydrocodone or Trazodone, so at approximately 8:00 that night, Meredith limped down the hallway of her childhood home to Alex's room and opened the door. "Hey."

Alex looked up from the computer screen that he was staring at, all the while lying in bed. "Hey, you need something?"

"No… well, yes. I need a ride to the hospital tomorrow," Meredith said. She still was not allowed to drive, and to be perfectly honest, Meredith was still too afraid to get behind the wheel of a car.

"Yeah, I figured you would be going up there at some point," Alex said; all Meredith had felt comfortable doing the last three days was visiting Derek and Cristina. "What time do you want to go?"

Meredith shifted a little, awkwardly. "Um… I need to be there by 1:00 cause… well, I have my first appointment with Wyatt then. Bailey just texted me."

"Oh… okay. Well, that's good. I mean, I'm sure that'll help you feel better."

Meredith did not reply. She only turned around and wobbled back down to the master bedroom. Meredith had not slept in Alex's room since that first night at home. It did not have anything to do with her anxiety decreasing; Meredith just felt wrong sleeping with anyone other than Derek, even if she was not actually having sex.

Plus, Meredith was doing her best to pretend like she was improving, mentally. She did not want Alex to worry about her. Meredith was supposed to be strong and resilient. She was not supposed to be waking-up at 2:00 AM, screaming and crying with flashbacks. That was Cristina's job.

With the help of her last Trazodone dose, Meredith slept intermittently that night. She could never stay unconscious for long; a certain part of Meredith was still convinced that the wolves were going to come back and eat her. She recorded a few hours of restless slumber though, and it was 9:00 AM, according to Meredith's alarm clock, when Alex opened her bedroom door and called her name.

"Come on, Mer. Zola's awake and we need to start getting ready if we want to make it to the hospital by 1:00."

That was one of the worst parts about being injured. It took Meredith so long to get up and moving each day. Her broken ribs prevented her from doing anything unassisted. Alex had to help Meredith bathe, get dressed, comb her hair, feed Zola, and apply a layer of concealer to hide Meredith's facial bruises that were still healing.

Meredith had not been eating much. Despite how hungry she had been in the forest, she had lost her appetite since being rescued. But Meredith knew she could not starve so she consumed a few bites of the cereal that Alex poured for her and then they were on the road.

Thankfully, the paparazzi crowds had cleared in the four days since the surgeons had been home. After a while, they must have realized there was really nothing to see so Meredith, Alex, and Zola were free to walk through the main entrance of Seattle Grace Mercy West.

"Are you gonna be okay? Do you remember how to get to psych?" Alex asked and Meredith nodded so the former pushed Zola in her stroller towards the daycare.

This was Meredith's chance to run, if she really wanted to… with Alex distracted and all of her other loved ones in the ICU, Meredith could take off and manage to avoid Dr. Wyatt. But where would she go? Meredith could not drive, and all she needed was for word to get around to Derek that she was missing.

Needless to say, Meredith got on the elevator, rode it up to the top floor, and walked down the hallway until she found the familiar office of Dr. Katherine Wyatt.

The psychiatrist's door was closed so Meredith sat down on a nearby bench, assuming that her shrink was meeting with another patient. Meredith had only been waiting for maybe thirty seconds, though, when the door was cast aside and Dr. Wyatt stepped out, her face as expressionless as always.

"Alright, Dr. Grey. Are we ready to get started?"

"I guess as ready as I'll ever be," Meredith said. She followed Dr. Wyatt into the office and repositioned herself on the large, fluffy couch.

Wyatt herself sat down in a more professional chair and grabbed a legal pad. "Well, first of all, Dr. Grey, I do want you to know how glad I am that you're still here with us."

"Thank you," Meredith said; it felt like she had repeated those same words a hundred times in the last week… to nurses, doctors, daycare workers, reporters. "And please, you can call me Meredith."

"Okay, then, Meredith. I think we all know you have been through quite the ordeal in the last two weeks. It's probably not the ideal way you wanted to end your residency, is it?"

Meredith snorted, lightly. "No, not exactly."

"Do you think you can explain to me… in your own words, exactly what happened?"

"Yes, we were in a plane crash," Meredith said. "We don't know the cause yet, but I think Dr. Hunt is finding us a lawyer and we're going to do an investigation."

"I see," Dr. Wyatt said, and made a few notes on her legal pad. "And remind me again, who all was on that aircraft with you?"

Meredith was sure that Dr. Wyatt knew their names; the crash had received a ton of publicity but she was using some therapeutic technique. "It was Dr. Arizona Robbins, the Chief of Pediatric Surgery, Dr. Mark Sloan, the Chief of Plastic Surgery, my best friend, Cristina, she's specializing in cardio… and then, um… my husband, Derek… he's Chief of Neuro and… and my little sister, Lexie. She hasn't picked a specialty yet."

"That must have been awfully difficult to go through what you did with all of your loved ones."

"I… I don't know. I mean, it might have actually made it easier. I knew I wasn't alone out there," Meredith lied.

Dr. Wyatt nodded, carefully. "But from what I've heard, none of you truly escaped this accident without injury. What if someone would have died out there? What if your husband or your sister would have died? Or Cristina?"

"Well, they didn't," Meredith said. "Everyone is going to be fine. And forgive me, Dr. Wyatt, but I don't think we are here to talk about the _what-if_ scenarios. Derek and Lexie and Cristina… they're okay."

"From what I understand, all three of those individuals are still downstairs in the ICU."

For a moment, Meredith froze, unsure what to say or do. Derek was recovering from major abdominal surgery and there was a chance that he might never operate again. Lexie was in a medically-induced coma. Cristina was catatonic. It was all too much to bear.

Meredith caught herself right before she began to hyperventilate and cleared her throat instead. "But they're alive. They're alive and they're going to stay alive. We might even get rich off of this whole thing; Owen told me that the settlement alone is bound to be huge."

"Yes, I'm sure that will fix everything. Money is proven to buy happiness, after all," Dr. Wyatt smirked.

"Look, Dr. Wyatt," Meredith sighed. "I don't mean to be harsh. But I have truly been through a lot. My mother died of Alzheimer's Disease. My stepmother died of the hiccups. One of my best friends was hit by a bus and killed, and I've watched my husband get shot in the chest. This plane crash… yes, it sucked; it was very inconvenient but no one died. We're all going to be fine."

Dr. Wyatt took a deep breath; perhaps she was holding in her frustration. Shrinks did not like it when their patients had no problems to shrink. "Alright, then, Meredith. Let's move on. I hear that you were injured in the crash yourself. Could you describe your injuries to me?"

"I thought you dealt with my mental health, not my physical health," Meredith said but the psychiatrist did not say anything so Meredith rolled her eyes and continued. "I hit my head really hard in the initial crash. It was bleeding a lot; I think I got diagnosed with a grade two concussion. And then I have some broken ribs, a laceration up here on my thigh, and just a few bumps and bruises. My spleen was bleeding a little but it resolved itself; no surgery was required."

"That's quite the list," Dr. Wyatt remarked.

Meredith shrugged. "I've had worse."

"Have you?"

"Yeah definitely," Meredith said. "Don't you remember what happened during my intern year? I drowned. I flatlined a bunch of times; I should have died. I had a miscarriage in the middle of a shooting."

"Past trauma does not erase current trauma, Meredith. If anything, it adds to it. I'm sure you know that."

"What are you, reading from a textbook? Every case is different, Dr. Wyatt. I'm sure you know _that_."

There was a long pause. Dr. Wyatt stared at Meredith and Meredith stared back at Dr. Wyatt. Finally, the shrink set aside her legal pad. "This must be a lot for you to take on. I'm sure this is all moving very quickly. How about you take some more time to process what's happened to you?"

"There's nothing to process," Meredith said. "Our plane crashed. We were stranded in the woods for a few days. Sure, I doubt that I'll ever enjoy flying again but it's over. We're moving forward."

Dr. Wyatt cocked her head to the side. "What do you feel when you think about getting on another airplane?"

"I… I don't know… a little nervous, I guess," Meredith admitted. _That was the understatement of the century._

"Because bad things happened the last time you were on a plane," Dr. Wyatt assumed. "Can you tell me what happened that was so terrible? What happened to make you scared of getting back on a plane?"

Meredith threw her hands into the air. "I told you already! The plane crashed. We don't know the reason behind it yet. We're launching an investigation. We were stranded in the woods for a few days but… we're fine now!"

"But what happened _next_?" Dr. Wyatt pressed. "What happened after the plane crashed? Your husband and sister were injured, correct? How did you help them?"

The images were fighting their way back into Meredith's mind… _cutting into Lexie's chest with a hunting knife… breaking Derek's hand with a jagged rock… sticking a safety-pin through the skin on his hand… _

"There was a first-aid kit," Meredith said, fibbing for a second time. "It had… a ton of supplies in it and honestly… Cristina and Mark did most of the work because they weren't injured as badly as me. I just sat around and kept them company until they rescued us."

"That's all you did?" Dr. Wyatt asked.

"That's all," Meredith assured her. "See? I'm fine. I just need to let my ribs heal and then I'll be good to start working again. I'm going to be a fellow."

"Yes, I heard that," Dr. Wyatt smiled, tightly. "Here at Seattle Grace? Or in Boston?"

"I haven't decided yet," Meredith said; that was not exactly a lie. She could not imagine moving to Boston now, but it was not like she had talked with Derek or the Brigham about it. Nothing was set in stone.

A few more moments passed. Dr. Wyatt recorded some notes on her legal pad, and then set it aside once again. She looked up at her patient. "Alright, then. I think that's about enough for today. I'll book you again for later this week; what day works best for you?"

"Um… I'm not sure yet. I'll have to check and see how Derek is doing and then I'll let you know."

"Sounds good. You know where to find me," Dr. Wyatt said.

It was obvious that this was Meredith's cue. She was supposed to get up, bid Dr. Wyatt farewell, and leave the office. But this entire time, Meredith had been hoping that Dr. Wyatt was going to refill her Trazodone supply and give her another prescription for anxiety medication.

But why would she? Meredith had told her psychiatrist that she was experiencing no anxiety, having no problems sleeping.

"Okay, um… I guess I'll just… I'll just go," Meredith said.

"Unless you needed something else, please," Dr. Wyatt requested. "I have other patients to see."

The look was evident in her eyes; Dr. Wyatt knew what Meredith wanted. There was no way that Meredith was going to give her that satisfaction, though, so she did as she was told… she got up, bid Dr. Wyatt farewell, and walked out of the torture chamber.

Meredith did not so much as pause until she was in the elevator, being brought back down to the ICU floor. That was where she was supposed to meet Alex when she was finished with therapy. Her breaths were growing quicker now that she was away from Dr. Wyatt… even talking about the plane crash basics had sent Meredith into a panic attack and to top everything off, she had no Trazodone or Clonazepam to show for it.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Meredith rushed forward, eager to find a quiet on-call room to deal with her anxiety. Before she could take two steps in either direction, though, Meredith bumped straight into the one person she had been doing everything to avoid… her father. Molly was close behind.

"Meredith!" Thatcher exclaimed when he saw his eldest daughter. "We've been looking for you; where have you been these last few days?"

"Oh, um… I've been at home, resting. I still haven't been feeling great, you know…" Meredith sighed. That was not really a lie either; Meredith had certainly not been feeling good, but she had been up at the hospital visiting Derek and Cristina. She would have visited Lexie, too, if Thatcher had not been by her side every waking moment.

If Thatcher was angry about this, though, he did not show it. He smiled, sympathetically. "Well, I'm always here for you, sweetheart. Don't think that just because I'm spending time with Lexie, I don't care about you. It's just… she's still critical, you know? If it was you up here in a coma, I would be here with you, too…"

"I know," Meredith interrupted. "I know; you told me that on Thursday, or… or whenever I saw you last. I was just stopping by now to see Lexie myself, actually… Lexie and Derek. How is she?"

"She's hanging in there," Thatcher said, his eyes shining with pride. "The doctors say we're going to have to wait a little longer to wake her up than we originally thought. Lexie had some kind of head injury, um… I forgot what it was called…"

"A basal skull fracture," Molly chimed in.

"Yes! That was it. Anyway, her brain started swelling a whole lot after all the surgery and anesthesia so they took out some pieces of her skull to give her brain room to swell, and put the pieces of the skull somewhere in her abdomen. It was really weird. Once the brain stops swelling, they'll put the pieces back in her head and she should be good to go!"

Meredith had heard about those kinds of procedures before. Actually, she had performed them alongside Derek, Webber, and Bailey. They were not especially dangerous but there was brain swelling involved and everything sounded so much scarier when it was Meredith's baby sister on the table.

"Okay, well… well, when do we think she'll be ready to wake-up?" Meredith asked.

"In another week or two," Thatcher explained. "They just don't want to act too soon. Lexie's allergic to almost all pain medications and if she woke-up in a lot of pain, well… then her blood pressure would go up, her brain would swell again…"

Meredith nodded. She understood. She was a doctor and she understood all of that a lot better than Thatcher. She was not sure why her father was acting like he was the physician.

"Yeah, okay… well, um… it was nice seeing you guys. If you don't mind, I'm gonna head over now and see her… Lexie, I mean and… and Derek."

"Well, hold on a minute. Molly and I were just heading out to get some late lunch; we've been up here pretty much constantly the past few days and I think we're both burnt out on hospital food. Why don't you join us?" Thatcher offered.

"Yeah, I would love to talk with you some more about Lexie and about… well, everything!" Molly added.

Her heart now beating out of its chest, Meredith hesitated. She had promised Lexie that she was going to be nicer to their father. She had not been eating anything, and Lexie had wanted Meredith to know Molly. But there was not anything in the world that Meredith wanted to do less than go to lunch with her father and estranged sister. She shifted back and forth on her feet, stared at the ground awkwardly…

"Look, I… I really would love to do that… sometime. But… but I would rather wait until Lexie and maybe Derek can join us. Derek's waiting for me, and… and I actually already ate, too, so…"

It was three excuses rolled into one sentence and Meredith could not have been very convincing but for now, Thatcher let her go. He smiled and waved goodbye, and Molly did the same, and then Meredith continued on her path to the ICU.

She did not head straight to Derek's room though. Before doing anything else, Meredith ducked into the nearest on-call room, sat down on the closest bed, and doubled-over, hyperventilating.

_The plane… the crash… the blood… the rain… the knife… the rock… the wolves… _

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Derek's mother, Carolyn had gone home to New York two days after the gang returned to Seattle. She had not wanted to leave; actually, she had offered to stay with her son a dozen times, but Derek insisted that she go home and report back to his three sisters that lived in the northeast. They were worried, and Derek was out of the woods, literally and figuratively.

"Now, you make sure you call me if anything changes," Carolyn had lectured him before heading out. "You or Meredith… I don't want a repeat of 2011."

"Don't worry, Mom… I'm… I'm g-gonna be fine," Derek promised and he tried not to think about how his statement would sound so much stronger if he was not frequently groaning with pain.

Either way, he did not want to worry his mother and he definitely did not want her placing anymore blame on Meredith. His mother did like Meredith, for the most part, but they had experienced a brief quarrel after the shooting two years ago. Meredith had not called Carolyn or any of the other Shepherd family members until the day after the massacre, by which time Derek was almost guaranteed to survive. Everyone had been frantic with worry when they heard about the shooting on the news and Derek failed to answer his phone.

Now, things appeared to have calmed down. Carolyn trusted her daughter-in-law, and she had every reason to… Meredith was up at the hospital every day, spending time with her husband.

For the first few days after surgery, all Derek did was lie in bed and listen to Meredith's adorable stories about Zola, but now he was becoming more mobile. With the help of Mary-Katharine, also known as MK, one of his favorite nurses, Derek was walking slow laps around the ICU. He was feeding himself more regularly, and he even had the mental strength to wonder whether or not he was ever going to operate again.

That was not the priority, and Derek knew that. He would accept an early retirement from surgery if it meant that he could live out the rest of his life happily with Meredith and Zola. Still, a certain part of Derek could not help but be curious. It was difficult to imagine never standing in the OR again, never removing a complicated spinal tumor or clipping an aneurysm.

On Monday afternoon, Derek was sitting up in bed, flipping through the television channels, as bored as ever. Normally, Derek did not even watch television that often but in the ICU, there were not a lot of distractions and Derek needed to keep his mind away from the memories.

Strangely enough, it was not the memories from the woods that were haunting Derek. He had been unconscious or delirious for much of their time in the forest, so all that he truly remembered were bits and pieces… _waking up and realizing that his hand was broken, that he was trapped in the wreckage… hearing the wolves' howls grow closer… something about a rainstorm… _

The memories that triggered Derek came from the shooting two years ago. That had been the worst period of his life. The recovery was absolute hell and being back in the ICU reminded Derek of those moments.

Suddenly, Derek's dark train of thought was interrupted by a familiar voice: "Well, look who's awake."

It was Mark. He was dressed in a pair of loose, Nike sweatpants, a Columbia t-shirt, and was balancing on a pair of crutches.

"Hey," Derek smiled weakly. "What are you doing up? Don't tell me they're letting you out of here…"

"You bet they are. Callie just went to get the car and then Mary-Katharine is gonna bring me out front. I'm going to stay at Callie's for a few days, while I recuperate."

"What happened to Julia?" Derek asked.

Mark's face turned a bit pink. "Oh… yeah, um… Julia and I aren't exactly a thing anymore."

"Let me guess… you realized that the love of your life was right in front of you this whole time?"

"Something like that," Mark admitted. He limped over to the chair next to Derek's bed and sat down. "You know, Lexie's still unconscious. There's no guarantee that she's going to wake-up."

"She probably will. She's being sedated intentionally right now, right?"

"Yeah, because she's allergic to almost every opioid in the book," Mark said. "I don't know… I just feel like… I should have done this a long time ago. And then I wasted my shot and now Lexie's in a coma and we don't know if she's gonna wake-up."

Derek nodded. He had been in that position before. It was not completely the same thing, but Meredith had tried to kill herself towards the end of her intern year. She had never confessed to it, but Derek knew the truth. That hour when Meredith was unresponsive was one of the scariest of Derek's life.

"Hey," Mark said when Derek did not reply. "You doing okay?"

"I'm fine," Derek said automatically; he was beginning to sound like Meredith. "I'm glad you're doing better."

"Me, too," Mark grinned. "You will be, too. Just gotta give your liver and lungs and all that time to heal and you know Torres will work some kind of magic on your hand. This place can't go without the Seattle Grace Brain Butcher."

Again, Derek pressed a weak smile onto his face. "Funny."

"I do my best."

"Hey, you haven't seen Meredith at all today, have you?" Derek asked.

Mark paused to think and then shook his head. "Um, nope… I don't think so. Why? Was she supposed to come and distract you from your pain?"

"You have a very dirty mind," Derek said. "She just told me she would be up here at some point and I want to make sure she's doing okay. I know she probably remembers a lot more from the crash than I do and she's dealing with Lexie and her dad. I wish I could be there for her."

"You know, that right there is why they call you McDreamy, McDreamy," Mark said and then scoffed. "Oh, God; did I really just call you McDreamy?"

"You did and no, I will never let you forget it," Derek laughed.

Mark put his face in his hands. "Wonderful… but seriously, do you not remember anything from… you know?"

"I remember little bits and pieces. I remember hearing the wolves… I remember realizing that I had broken my hand… and I remember that it rained. I know that Jerry, the pilot is dead. That's about it," Derek explained.

"So you don't remember Meredith closing your hand with a safety-pin? Or me sticking a bootleg chest tube into your lung?"

Derek frowned. "I remember being in a lot of pain when you guys were helping me, I think… hold on; how the hell did you make a bootleg chest tube?"

"With a hunting knife and a can of hairspray that Cristina had in her suitcase," Mark said and when Derek's face went pale, he chuckled. "Don't ask. You probably don't want to know anymore."

"Yeah, you're… you're probably right," Derek said and just then, Mary-Katharine appeared in the doorway, a smile on her face.

"There you are, Dr. Sloan! Your ride is all ready out front unless you want to stick around here a little longer."

"Nah, I think I'm good to go although I will miss your beautiful face," Mark said and he plopped into the wheelchair that Mary-Katharine had waiting. He turned back to face Derek one more time before leaving. "Don't worry, man. I'll be back to annoy your ass before you know it."

Derek waved goodbye with his healthy hand. "Looking forward to it."

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Initially, Meredith had wondered whether she might be able to get by without Trazodone. She had survived the aftermath of the shooting without it. Since the shooting, though, something had changed drastically within Meredith. She was much less capable of being the brave one, the one that held everyone else together.

The night after her first appointment with Dr. Wyatt was terrifying and there was no other way to put it. It had nothing to do with nightmares; Meredith did not have any nightmares but that was because she never slept. All night, Meredith tossed and turned, quivering with anxiety, and insomnia. She went into the bathroom at 2:00 AM and ran bathwater just so she could scream and cry without Alex listening. Meredith called the ICU twice, to check on Derek and Lexie. Meredith considered walking out of the house and running to the hospital but that was illogical. She had broken ribs and in all likelihood, Thatcher was there…

At 9:00 in the morning, Meredith's alarm went off and she jumped back into bed just as Alex stuck his head inside the door. "Are you awake? Did you sleep well?"

"Um… I think so," Meredith yawned.

"Well, if you don't know, then that probably means that you did," Alex laughed. "Come on, I'm gonna get breakfast going. Do you want to go back up to the hospital today or hang-out around here?"

"I… I mean, don't you have to go to work?" Meredith asked.

Alex shrugged. "Nah, it doesn't really matter. I'm at the end of my contract and I have PTO days left. I'd actually prefer to stay here with you, spend time with you while I still have a chance."

_So he's still moving to Baltimore,_ Meredith thought to herself. Alex had told her that a few days ago, that he had given Hopkins his word but Meredith had not given up hope that Alex might change his mind.

"Alex… you can't leave me," Meredith begged, out of nowhere. "P-Please… everyone is leaving and everyone is dying. Cristina is going to leave; I know it. All she talked about out in the woods was getting the hell away from Seattle Grace Mercy Death as soon as possible. Jackson is leaving and April failed her boards so she's getting fired… George is dead and Izzie's gone and… and Lexie's… please… you can't leave me."

There was a long pause and then Alex sighed heavily and grasped Meredith's hand in his own. "I mean… I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, Mer. I'm gonna stick around at least until Shepherd is discharged and you're better."

_And that could be tomorrow,_ Meredith thought but she could not bring herself to say anything else pessimistic so she just nodded, shortly. "Okay, well… I still want to go to the hospital. I need to talk to Derek's doctor about some stuff and I need to see if I can talk some sense into Cristina."

They went through the same ritual as the day before. Alex helped Meredith bathe and change clothes; today she wore a soft pair of black yoga pants and a simple, white top. Alex fed Zola her breakfast while Meredith pretended to snack on some granola.

"Can you take Zola to daycare?" Meredith asked when they arrived in the Seattle Grace lobby.

"I… I mean, sure," Alex said but touched Meredith's shoulder before she could walk away and the latter flinched. "But Mer… I don't know; you might want to do it. You really haven't been spending that much time with her since you got home and I know she misses her mommy."

Meredith paused. The last thing she wanted was to appear distant and neglectful like her own mother had been… she loved Zola and missed her terribly when she had been in the woods. But ever since coming home, it had been so hard for Meredith to act like a proper mother. Derek, Lexie, and Cristina were in the ICU and Meredith was barely holding herself together. She had no energy left, physical or mental, to care for another human being.

"Um, I… I'll pick her up today. I promise I will," Meredith said. "Can't you please just do it one more time?"

It was not that big of a deal; Alex agreed and paced off in the direction of the daycare. Meanwhile, Meredith turned around and rode the elevators upstairs, not to the ICU this time, but to the Residents' Lounge, which the graduating class was still entitled to occupy for approximately two months.

It was funny, how little had changed since Meredith had last entered the Residents' Lounge. Her world had been flipped upside down, but the cubby holes and scrub closet appeared exactly the same. Meredith's white lab coat was hanging in her locker, her favorite stethoscope by its side. Cristina and Lexie's cubbies were a mess, with spare papers and half-eaten snacks stuffed everywhere.

Slowly, Meredith walked over to her belongings, picked up the pager that was waiting for her, and entered the numbers: 206-555-0176.

Within three minutes, the door to the Residents' Lounge swung open and April Kepner stumbled inside, her eyes wide and gasping for air. "You paged me here?! Are you okay?!"

"I'm fine," Meredith said; she felt guilty about what she was about to do, but April was the most logical choice for her mission. The current Chief Resident was gullible, overly worried about all of the plane crash survivors, and it was not like she could be fired twice.

"Then, um… did you… what did you need?" April asked.

"I just wondered… if you could do me a favor. And if you can't, I… I totally understand, but… I just thought I'd ask."

"Of course. Of course, anything," April sighed and sat down on a nearby bench next to Meredith.

Meredith took a deep breath. "Look… I know you aren't going to be… around much longer. And I really wish there was something I could do to change that. But since there's not… is there any way you could write me some prescriptions? I know I have PTSD but my psychiatrist wants to wait; she wants me to explain more about the plane crash before giving me anything and I'm not ready for that. I've had a really hard time sleeping. I promise I wouldn't use the medications to hurt myself or anything; it's not like that."

The expression on April's face said it all. "Oh, you poor thing; of course, I can! What do you need, some Trazodone or something?"

"That would be great," Meredith said.

April took her prescription pad out of her pocket, scrawled out the name of the drug, and then signed her own name. "Do you need anything else? Maybe something for anxiety?"

"Um… yeah, that probably wouldn't be a bad idea. I've responded well to Clonazepam in the past."

"Okay, we can do that," April said and wrote the second script before handing them both over to Meredith. "There you go… that's crazy about your psychiatrist; you've gone through so much trauma. I saw somebody after the shooting, just because of Reed and everything, and they gave me Xanax and Lexapro."

Meredith nodded; she really did not want to talk about this much longer. It was weird, but despite all the trauma that Meredith had endured in her lifetime, she had still never taken actual antidepressants.

April must have sensed that Meredith needed a change of subject. "Anyway, how is everyone else doing? Derek and Lexie and Cristina and Arizona? I heard Mark got discharged so that's good."

"Yeah, Mark is doing better," Meredith agreed. "Everyone else is improving, slowly but surely. Lexie's in her medically-induced coma but we should be able to wake her up soon."

"That's good. Whenever you see them next… um, Derek especially, can you please pass on the word that I'm praying for them?" April requested. "I know I still have a few more weeks on my contract but I'm not going anywhere until I know that they're all going to be okay."

"Thank you, April. You're sweet. And yes, of course I will pass on your prayers."

Their conversation mostly ended there; April needed to get back to work and Meredith had places to be, as well. She took her new prescriptions down to the hospital pharmacy to get filled, and then headed back to the ICU.

Derek was sitting up in bed, seemingly waiting for his wife.

"Hey, you," Meredith said as she walked in the door. "How are you feeling?"

"Better now that you're here," Derek grinned. "Where's Zola?"

"Oh, she's hanging out in daycare with Sofia. She can only put up with me so many hours a day," Meredith joked. She sat down in her usual, bedside chair and quickly kissed her husband on the lips. "But seriously, how are you feeling?"

Derek smiled, softly. "I'm fine, Mer. They're weaning me off the morphine as we speak, and my pain is controlled. Any day now, I'm sure Soto will be discharging me."

"But you'll still have to have more surgeries," Meredith assumed.

"Well, yeah. At least on my hand… I'm going to talk with some acquaintances up in Boston, though, see if we can get my files transferred to Mass-Gen… I know some pretty good ortho guys up there."

It took Meredith a few seconds to realize the truth… Derek was still under the impression that they were moving to Boston. She shook her head. "Derek, I…"

"I know you're not ready yet. You still have healing to do, and I know you want to stick around until Lexie is better," Derek interrupted. "Don't worry. I'm not going to rush you. Sooner or later, though, you'll have to be out there for your fellowship and I don't want to hold you up."

"Let's just… wait for now," Meredith said. "We still have a ton of things to figure out before then. I don't think either of us are in shape to pack up all our stuff and there's going to be a lawsuit and everything for the crash."

"I know, but we can communicate with the lawyers from Boston. That's what Cristina will be doing from Mayo, right?" Derek guessed.

Yes, in all likelihood, that would be what Cristina did, as long as she emerged from her catatonic state. Meredith tried not to think about it. "I… I guess so."

Derek sighed, more out of sympathy than frustration. "I know, Mer. I know, this threw a wrench in all of our plans. But it's going to be okay. You're going to get better and Lexie's going to be okay."

"I know," Meredith choked out.

"Come here," Derek said. He was gently scooting himself to one side of the mattress, and holding out his good hand, beckoning.

"I… I don't want to hurt you…"

"You won't. I'm practically healed anyway. Come here… please, for me."

Being practically healed was definitely an exaggeration but it did not take much convincing, either way. Meredith set down her purse and climbed into bed with Derek. She curled onto her side, ignoring the sharp pain that shot through her injured abdomen, and rested her head on his shoulder.

Derek kissed her softly on the head. "I've missed this."

"Me, too," Meredith whispered.

"Too bad we can't go any further than this yet," Derek said. "You don't know how much I'd love to take off your pants right now."

Meredith giggled, for the first time in what felt like forever. "I don't know if that would help your discharge plan."

"Or your ribs, I know they're still healing," Derek said. "Are you okay, by the way? Are you in pain?"

"Not anymore," Meredith smiled.

"Me neither…" Derek admitted.

Before she knew it, Meredith had leaned forward and pressed her lips, much more firmly, up against Derek's… there was tongue involved, and she ran her fingers through the dark curls atop her husband's head…

Right when Meredith was considering removing her shirt, the glass door to Derek's hospital room slid open and the general surgeon, Dr. Soto, stopped dead in his tracks. "Oh, God, I'm… I'm sorry; I'll go…"

"Don't worry about it, Dave," Derek said. He took a deep breath, to grab hold of his emotions and Meredith carefully climbed down from his bed.

"I guess it's safe to say that you're feeling better?" Soto asked, awkwardly.

"Much better," Derek said. "My wife is a miracle drug."

Meredith blushed and barely withheld another round of giggles.

Soto flipped through a few pages of Derek's chart and then lifted up his patient's gown and examined Derek's incision sites. "Well, it looks like everything is healing well. I don't think there's a whole lot more for me to do, Shepherd."

"Seriously? You mean I can go home?" Derek's face was lighting up.

"Probably not today. You'll have to see Schacter one more time before you leave, talk about your options as far as the hand goes, but I don't see any reason why we would need to keep you here past tomorrow. Your wife is a doctor; I'm sure she'll be able to monitor your progress. You need to take it easy though, Shepherd. No… no physical activity, at least not yet. You don't want to risk popping your stitches."

"No, definitely not," Derek agreed.

"Thank you, Dr. Soto," Meredith added and shook her colleague's hand, professionally.

Once Soto had left, Meredith turned back to Derek and grasped his good hand in her own. "That's not nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be… tomorrow."

"Tomorrow at the latest," Derek corrected her. "Go find Schacter; see if you can get him to come up here now. And see if you can grab some yogurt for me on the way back."

"Blueberry?" Meredith guessed.

"You know me well."

"I should hope so…" Meredith hauled herself off of the chair and after blowing one more kiss to her husband, wandered out into the hallway. She was glad that Derek had sent her on a mission. Meredith's prescriptions were probably ready by now at the pharmacy, and she could not get her hands on that Clonazepam fast enough.

She was happy about the prospect of Derek getting discharged, of course, but it also made Meredith anxious. Once he was home, Meredith was really going to have to be on guard. If she showed even an ounce of her mental and emotional angst, Derek would get worried and all Derek needed to focus on at the moment was his own recovery. Surely, he was already dealing with a lot of trauma himself.

Meredith went straight to the pharmacy from the ICU, not even stopping to update Alex first. The prescriptions were ready, just like she had predicted, and the pharmacy tech that handed them over stared at Meredith unnecessarily long. Without a doubt, this young woman recognized her patient as one of the traumatized plane crash survivors.

As soon as she had the medications in her purse, Meredith ducked into the nearest bathroom and swallowed down one of the Clonazepam pills. The effect was not instantaneous, but throughout the next few minutes, Meredith did calm down enough that she was able to walk to the cafeteria by herself and select a cup of blueberry yogurt for Derek.

If the communication with the pharmacy tech had been awkward, though, then this was just plain mortifying.

As Meredith walked through the Seattle Grace cafeteria, she could feel almost every set of eyes in the entire place on her. The doctors were staring, the nurses were gossiping, and even the visitors were looking because everyone else was… it was just like what happened after the shooting, except for that the individuals affected by the plane crash were much fewer than the mass-murder. Meredith, thus far, was the only viable target.

She quickly rushed up to the register and handed over the yogurt. "Um… I'll just take this."

"Right, of course… go ahead and take it, Doctor," the woman working the machine said. "It's on the house."

"Are you sure?" Meredith pleaded.

"Of course. It's the least we can do."

"Okay, um… thank you."

A few months ago, when Meredith was completing her fellowship interviews, there had been a patient named Holly that came into the trauma department. It turned out that Holly had been kidnapped when she was only six years old, and spent a majority of her life in captivity. Now 18, Holly was having trouble adjusting back to normal life and Meredith attempted to help her by bringing Holly to the cafeteria for lunch.

It did not go great. Holly was too anxious to speak with any of the cafeteria employees, so she had only purchased desserts from the self-serve station. Meredith had not exactly judged Holly; the teenager had every right to be traumatized, but Meredith could never have imagined herself doing the same thing.

Now, if Meredith had been hungry, she knew, without a doubt, that she would have followed Holly's lead.

But there was no need for that. Blueberry yogurt in hand, Meredith ignored her throbbing ribs and ran out of the cafeteria. She took the elevator up to the fifth floor, which housed the orthopedic department and asked the receptionist to page Dr. Schacter.

"Do you have an appointment?" the receptionist asked, a bit skeptical.

"No, I work here," Meredith said. "My name is Dr. Meredith Grey; I'm a surgical resident. My husband, Dr. Derek Shepherd is currently in the ICU and he asked me to come find Schacter."

This changed things. The receptionist also recognized Meredith as one of the plane crash victims and shock washed over her face. "Oh… of course! Of course, I'll page him right away."

"Thank you."

Thankfully, Dr. Schacter was not in surgery and Meredith only had to wait with the wide-eyed receptionist for about five minutes.

"Is it Derek? Is he alright?" Schacter asked as he approached his customer.

"Yes, he's fine. He just wanted to talk with you because Soto cleared him and he wants you to discharge him, too."

Schacter smiled wryly. "Of course he does… well, I have a feeling that it's going to be a bit more complicated than that. Lead the way, Dr. Grey."

Upon arrival back at Derek's room, Meredith discovered that during the time she had been gone, fetching the blueberry yogurt and Dr. Schacter, Derek had fallen asleep. She woke him up with a soft kiss on the cheek. "Hey… wakey-wakey, sleepyhead."

"W-What? What happened?" Derek said and blinked a few times.

"I brought you your blueberry yogurt… and Dr. Schacter," Meredith reported.

"Oh," Derek realized and then Meredith's words must have registered; his face brightened. "Oh! Sorry, I must have dozed off. What's the verdict, Doc?"

Meredith could tell before Schacter opened his mouth that the news was not going to be good.

"Is there infection?" she asked before she could help it.

"No, no. There's nothing that's going to endanger Dr. Shepherd's life," Schacter said. "See, here's the problem, Derek. There was damage to the second metacarpal, but the first MCP joint was completely crushed. Boise did an X-Fix, my plan is to revise it to an internal fixator. We'll remove as much scar tissue as possible so there won't be contractures."

"Smart," Derek remarked. "So… so what's the problem?"

"It's the nerve damage that I concern myself with," Schacter continued. "You will get your prehensile strength back. That'll get you this back…"

Schacter clenched his left hand together to make a fist.

"Which will get me back into the OR…" Derek assumed.

"That's the hope."

"Well, that's the point, isn't it?"

"Of course," Schacter said. "But your hand was badly damaged. And I think conservatively, I can get you back to 80 percent function."

_Eighty percent function… _Meredith suddenly had a flashback to her intern year when Cristina's ex-fiance, Dr. Preston Burke had been shot outside of the emergency department. Derek operated on him several times to deal with nerve damage, but at first, they thought that Burke was only going to be able to retain eighty percent of his original shoulder function. He had a tremor for weeks and it nearly ended his career.

Now, in the present-day surgical consult, no one was saying anything. Derek had gone silent and Schacter was glancing at Meredith, probably hoping that she could do something to make it better.

But Meredith was having a hard time saying anything. This was her fault. She was the one that had slammed a rock into Derek's hand, shattering it into fragments.

"Dr. Shepherd?" Schacter repeated. "Dr. Shepherd, are you alright?"

"I… yes, of course," Derek said and took a deep breath. "Of course. Thank you for all of your hard work. It sounds like an excellent plan."

"I'm sorry I couldn't do better. You're an outstanding surgeon, sir, and I hate to think of you failing to operate again but you have to realize that in comparison with your life…"

"Absolutely. Absolutely, my life is more important than my career.".

Schacter sighed as well. "Alright, then… we'll give you a few more days to recover from your major abdominal surgery. If you would like, you can go home during that timespan. And then we'll schedule your surgery for sometime next week if that sounds alright?"

"Yes, that… that's fine," Derek said although he did tilt his head in Meredith's direction. "This surgery we'll do here, at Seattle Grace but if additional ones are required, we might be forced to move things to Boston. Please believe me when I say that that is not in any way a reflection on your surgical skills. My wife just has a fellowship beginning at the Brigham in a month, so we'll have to get out there sooner or later."

"That's right. I forgot about that, what with all the other chaos happening. Congratulations, Dr. Grey. You must be very excited," Schacter smiled.

"Thank you." Meredith had said those words so many times today that they were starting to not sound like words at all.

"So… am I getting out of here?" Derek pressed.

"Tomorrow is what Soto told you, I believe. He thinks, and I agree, that we should monitor you for one more day, just to be sure that your blood pressure remains stable."

Derek was forced to accept Schacter's answer so the latter left the room and Meredith was left alone with her husband who had gone eerily quiet. She touched his shoulder, softly. "It's okay… we didn't think Burke was going to operate again either."

"This is entirely different. That was Burke's shoulder. This is my hand," Derek said.

"I know but… but things could still happen. And you heard Schacter; it's your life that's most important. I… I thought you were going to die out there," Meredith admitted; she felt her throat close up tightly.

Derek reached out with his healthy hand and touched Meredith's cheek softly. "But I didn't. And you're right; it's selfish of me to be thinking about my career when it could have been so much worse."

Meredith's eyes filled with tears and she was trying so, so hard to keep them inside.

"Meredith," Derek sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm not going anywhere, I promise. I'm right here. And no matter what happens, we're going to stay together. I'm going to die when I'm 110 years old, in your arms. Remember?"

"If… if I don't die of Alzheimer's first," Meredith snorted.

It was a sore subject; Derek winced. "That's not going to happen. We're going to find a cure for Alzheimer's. If I can't operate, then maybe I can get back into research. Maybe the FDA will give me another chance."

"Yeah… maybe," Meredith muttered. "Look, um… I need to… go. I need to just… step outside for a second and, and talk to Alex about something."

"Meredith, are you alright? I don't remember most of what happened out there in the woods but I know that you do. You are seeing someone about that, right?" Derek asked.

Meredith nodded. "Yeah… yeah, of course. I've already had a session with Dr. Wyatt and I should be having another one here soon. I'm okay."

She fled before Derek could offer another comeback. Meredith dashed out of the ICU, down the stairs, and ran into Alex on the surgical floor.

"Hey!" the pediatric resident grinned. "How's it going; how's Shepherd?"

"He's fine. They're discharging him tomorrow," Meredith said. "Listen, do you think you could go pick-up Zola from daycare for me and take her home?"

Alex hesitated. "Hold on… what's going on, Mer? What's keeping you so busy that you don't have time to spend with your daughter? You're supposed to be resting; you're supposed to be healing."

"P-Please, just… don't ask right now, Alex," Meredith begged.

"No, I'm going to ask. I'm not going to keep doing this, picking-up Zola and having her ask me where her mommy and daddy are… what the hell is going on? Is something wrong? Is it Lexie?"

It was Meredith's turn to pause. Her heart was racing, her skin sweating, and her stomach clenched. The tears had never fully left Meredith's eyes and she was going to have a panic attack in the middle of the surgical hallway. She would never be respected as a surgeon again.

"Okay, come here," Alex said; he grabbed Meredith's hand and lead her into the nearest on-call room which was, luckily, empty.

Meredith immediately started to hyperventilate. "I just… I don't… oh, God… I can't…"

"Shh," Alex soothed; he hugged Meredith and held her tightly against his chest. "You're okay. Tell me what's wrong. I'm not mad; I just want to know. Is something wrong with Shepherd or Lexie?"

"No," Meredith said. "It's just… it's too much. It's all… too much."

"I know. I know it is, but you don't have to do it all yet, Mer. I'm here and lots of other people… we're all here to help you. Everything's going to be okay. Derek and Lexie… they're gonna be fine," Alex said.

It took a few minutes but eventually, Meredith was able to calm herself without spilling too many tears. She pointed to her purse on the ground. "Can you go in there? I… I have some medicine in there from… from my shrink."

"Yeah, of course," Alex said. He fished out the bottles of Trazodone and Clonazepam and by some miracle, did not read the labels in too much detail. Otherwise, he would have seen that it was not Dr. Wyatt who prescribed Meredith's pills at all, but April Kepner.

Alex just handed over one of the Clonazepam pills to Meredith who washed it down with a swig of water. She was not sure if she was supposed to take two this close together, but it did not really matter.

"Okay," Alex said when it was all over. "Are you okay now? Do you want to go get Zola and go home? I removed a huge tumor from this kid's stomach today. It was badass."

"That's cool," Meredith said. "But um… no, if you don't mind, I would actually still rather you go get Zola. I want to go over to Joe's for a while."

"To drink?"

"I'm not really sure what else I would do there. I'm not healthy enough to play darts," Meredith said.

Again, Alex sighed. "Mer… I don't know if you're healthy enough to drink yet either. You're on a ton of meds… Clonazepam, Trazodone, Hydrocodone, Amoxicillin. And you still have a concussion."

"I don't care; there will be other people around in case I pass out…"

"No," Alex interrupted. "No, it's too soon. I'm supposed to be taking care of you, right? Well, I'm telling you that it's too soon for tequila. Come on, we're gonna go home unless you need to go up and see Shepherd or Lexie again."

And finally, Meredith came to her conclusion… she was being stupid. She was supposed to be proving to Derek and Alex and everyone else that she was healthy, physically and mentally. Going out and getting drunk at Joe's was not the ideal way to do that.

Tonight would be better. Meredith had medications and Derek was coming home tomorrow. Everything was going to be fine.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. You're right," Meredith decided. "Let's go get Zola."

_**So before anyone says anything… yes, I know Meredith had some questionable behavior during this chapter. Between her session with Dr. Wyatt, her request from April, and her conversations with Alex, Mer is not exactly dealing with her trauma in a healthy way. Before anyone questions or criticizes this decision though, while I absolutely accept constructive criticism, I want to remind everyone of something and that's that in real life, people don't always deal with trauma in a healthy way. Sometimes, in the aftermath of a trauma, we say or do things that we never would normally. We shut out people who are only trying to help. We aren't always the best spouse, parent, or sibling etc.**_

_**That being said, I do not encourage anyone to cope with their trauma and/or other mental illness the way that Meredith currently is in this story. If you are struggling, please do not shut yourself off from your family or friends. Believe me, they WANT to be there for you. They WANT to help. Everything is a process though and expecting anyone to make the "right decision" 100% of the time is just unrealistic.**_

_**I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. If you did, PLEASE leave a review; they seriously mean so much to me! Feel free to favorite/follow this story as well and follow me on Twitter merderpedia for more regular updates about this story.**_

_**Shoutout to one of my most loyal followers on both Twitter and Fanfiction, Mary-Katharine (MK)! I hope you enjoyed being an ICU nurse.**_

_**Thank you so much again to everyone who is continuing to read this story and support me. It means so much and I cannot wait for you guys to read chapter 21. It will be out shortly, stick around. Love you all. Xoxo, merderpedia :)**_


	21. Peanut Butter Sandwich

_**Author's Note- Sorry that this has taken so long to get up, everyone! After posting the last chapter of this story, I realized that there were some pretty large plot holes in the coming chapters so I've been procrastinating fixing those. This chapter is good to go, though, and I hope you enjoy! :) **_

The next day, Meredith was in considerably better shape than she had been the day before. Her bruises were fading, she was dressed normally in jeans and a black top, and she had managed to sleep through the night without screaming at all. Sure, that was mostly due to the heavy doses of Trazodone and Clonazepam coursing through her system, but nobody had to know that.

According to Alex, Meredith had just suffered a temporary freak-out on Tuesday. Now, on Wednesday, she was back to her ordinary self, excited for Derek to be discharged from the hospital.

Meredith had spent most of the morning with her husband, who was more than ready to leave Seattle Grace. Thus far, he had not talked anymore about moving to Boston but Meredith knew that that conversation was coming when they got home. Derek just did not want to risk upsetting his wife when there were already plenty of emotional triggers in the ICU.

"I don't know what was wrong with me yesterday," Meredith said as she playfully helped Derek eat breakfast. "I was just freaking-out about your diagnosis and everything but… I mean, it's not anyone's fault, is it?"

"If it is, then they're going to owe us a lot of money," Derek said.

Eventually, the lawsuit regarding the plane crash was going to get underway but first, Owen was waiting until all of the survivors were a bit healthier. According to Larry Jenkins of the Board, Bayview Aeronautics was also preparing their defense and the plane was in the process of being removed from the forest so a proper investigation could be completed.

Around mid-morning, Derek took a nap so he could gather his energy for the discharge process which would begin in the afternoon and when he did, Meredith walked down the hall for the first time in a week and peeked into Lexie's room. Molly was nowhere to be seen, but Thatcher was at his daughter's bedside like usual, holding her hand and reading a magazine, simultaneously.

"Hi, Dad," Meredith said. The words sounded so wrong coming from her lips but she was not going to break the promises she had made, especially not in front of an unconscious Lexie.

Thatcher looked up, surprised. "Meredith! How are you feeling, sweetie?"

"I'm okay. Derek's going to be discharged in a few hours," Meredith said.

"That's wonderful. I'm so glad he's going to be okay," Thatcher smiled.

"Me, too." Meredith walked a few steps further into her sister's room and then after a few seconds of hesitation, took a seat on the other side of Lexie's bed, across from her father. "So… how is she today?"

"She's hanging in there… her vitals are strong and steady," Thatcher explained and then laughed. "Can you believe it? I finally actually learned what's considered a good blood pressure!"

Meredith smiled, too, weakly. "That's great."

"Yeah, I've been telling her stories all day… reminding her about her childhood. And I know it's Lexie, she doesn't really need a reminder but I'm sure she's glad to have her Daddy here anyway," Thatcher said.

Contrary to Meredith, Lexie really did love Thatcher. It was because of Lexie that Meredith had donated part of her liver to their father… because she knew that Lexie would be broken without either of her parents. So Meredith nodded again; she was sure that Lexie was happy to have family by her side.

"You know, I have to say, Meredith," Thatcher continued. "I was really surprised… pleasantly surprised… but surprised nonetheless when you started calling me _Dad._ Is there a particular reason why… that changed?"

It would be rude to confess the truth, so Meredith shrugged and resisted the urge to run. "I don't know… I guess we've just been through enough together that it seemed appropriate."

"Have you been referring to Molly as your sister?" Thatcher asked.

"No," Meredith said. "I mean… maybe I will in time. I don't know but right now, I just don't really feel like I know her. I know Lexie and I love Lexie but… Molly's going to take some time."

"That's understandable. But let me assure you, Molly really is a sweet girl. She's always kind of been an underdog, compared to Lexie… brilliant Lexie who has a photographic memory and finished first in her class at Harvard… but Molly is amazing in her own way."

Meredith nodded again. She wondered what words Thatcher used when he was describing her to Molly. Did he brag about how Meredith had gone to Dartmouth? Did he tell his friends from Alcoholics Anonymous about the groundbreaking clinical trial that Meredith had created with Derek?

Suddenly, Meredith remembered that the last time she had seen her father before the whole plane crash ordeal was when he had been in the hospital with kidney stones. At the time, Thatcher also had a girlfriend that appeared no older than Lexie.

"What ever happened to the girl you were dating from AA?" Meredith asked.

"Oh… we broke-up a while ago," Thatcher said. "She was moving down to San Francisco for graduate school and she wanted me to come, but I knew I couldn't leave Lexie all alone like that… or you. I couldn't leave either of you, and this is still Molly's home base."

Meredith raised her eyebrows. "Does Lexie know that? Does she know you broke-up with your girlfriend for her?"

"I don't know. And to be fair, it wasn't completely my choice. I was willing to do long-distance but Danielle wanted all of me or nothing. But it doesn't really matter. I'm over it. You girls are my priority."

Just then, there were approaching footsteps from behind and Meredith turned around to see Molly striding back into the room with two cups of coffee in her hands.

"Meredith!" Molly gasped and almost dropped the coffee. "I… I had no idea you would be here; otherwise, I would have brought you a coffee, too. But here, you can have mine if you want."

"That's alright; I think I've already maxed out on caffeine this morning," Meredith said.

"Are you sure?" Molly confirmed and Meredith nodded so she sat down next to her father. "Okay… how have you been? We haven't seen you in a while."

"I've been… fine… I mean, relatively speaking," Meredith said. "Just resting a lot at home, but Derek's being discharged today so that's good."

"That's awesome! Aw, I'm so glad he's okay," Molly said; her responses were almost identical to Thatcher's replies.

Meredith did not say anything; she just grabbed Lexie's other hand and stroked it a little. She loved Lexie, and she wanted to be there, but she also wanted to show Thatcher and Molly that she loved her sister.

"Eric just called," Molly said and it took Meredith a moment to realize that the youngest Grey sister was now addressing Thatcher. "He says that Laura and Aiden really miss me and want me to come home, but I told him I can't go yet… I mean, that's understandable, right?"

"Of course it is, sweetie. Laura and Aiden are safe with their Papa and Lexie needs you right now," Thatcher said.

"What about your job, Dad?" Meredith interjected. "Are you taking time off, or what?"

Thatcher shook his head. "I'm not working as of right now. Maybe I'll start again later, but I just decided to take an extended leave of absence. Even once Lexie's awake, she's going to need my help for a long time. She's gonna need help feeding herself and… and cleaning herself and I want to be there for all of it."

Molly had tears of pride in her eyes. "You really are the best dad in the entire universe."

"Oh, I highly doubt that," Thatcher said but he was blushing.

Meredith got up from the chair stationed next to Lexie. "Sorry, but I'm going to need to get going. Derek is waiting for me but I'll see you guys soon."

"Er… okay! Give Derek my best," Thatcher said.

"Aren't you going to say goodbye to Lexie?" Molly prompted.

Meredith paused, unsure what to do. There were instances where the comatose could hear and see those around them; Meredith had even spoken to Lexie last week but she was not sure if she wanted to make it a habit. Perhaps it was because Meredith was a doctor, but she just did not have that much faith that Lexie was waiting on her to say goodbye. It was not a permanent goodbye. It was goodbye until tomorrow.

Apparently this was something that was expected in the new Grey family though, so Meredith pressed a smile onto her face and squeezed Lexie's hand again. "Yeah… um… bye, Lex. I love you. I'll see you tomorrow."

And then Meredith got the hell out of her sister's room because she did not want to listen for one second longer about how Thatcher was the best dad in the entire universe.

**MTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTB**

It was 3:32 in the afternoon and Meredith had just finished helping Derek change into a pair of black lounging pants and a long-sleeved, navy pullover. Between the scrubs he had worn in the plane crash and the hospital gowns in Boise and Seattle, it was the first time that Derek had worn normal clothes in over two weeks. Meredith had forgotten quite how beautiful her husband looked in a simple sweatshirt.

"God, I can't wait to lie down in my own bed… in our bed," Derek sighed.

"Are you feeling okay?" Meredith asked; seeing Derek in a wheelchair had made his discharge seem so much more real. "Are you dizzy at all?"

"No. I've been walking around the ICU, Mer. I'm fine."

"Okay… okay, I'm sorry. I'm just worried."

Derek reached forward with his good hand and grabbed Meredith's, gently. "I know. But try not to… I'm fine. I feel fine. Schacter is going to fix my hand."

_Schacter is going to get your hand to eighty percent,_ Meredith thought but she did not voice this thought; it was not something that Derek needed to hear. She just smiled and nodded.

"Right… okay, so are we ready to go? Are you ready to see Zola?"

"More than ready," Derek grinned.

Ever since the day that the surgeons had returned to Seattle from Boise, Meredith had not brought Zola to see her father. It did not have anything to do with Meredith's mental health… Zola had just gotten too scared that first day when Derek was lying in bed, injured and unstable. Sure, he had improved since then but Meredith did not want to risk traumatizing her daughter. Meredith was determined to be a better mother than her mother, Ellis had been.

"Okay, then… let's do it," Meredith smiled.

Tyler, one of the ICU nurses, took hold of the handles on Derek's wheelchair and pushed him off the unit, with Meredith trailing shortly behind. Alex was waiting outside of the emergency room in his Volvo with Zola strapped into her carseat in the back.

"Hey, Shepherd!" Alex called out the window as the trio approached. "Good to see you, man!"

"Hey, Karev," Derek said in response and then his eyes lit up at the sight of his daughter. "Zola!"

"DADDY!" Zola cried eagerly.

"Do you want to sit in the back with her or in front with Alex?" Meredith asked her husband.

It would be an awkward arrangement, regardless, but Derek did not seem to mind. "I'll sit in the back."

Together, Meredith and Tyler helped Derek out of his wheelchair and into the backseat of the Volvo. Meredith made sure that his seat belt was fastened securely, and then thanked Tyler for everything and jumped into the front passenger seat, next to Alex.

"So where are we going? Home? Or do you wanna go out someplace for a celebratory dinner?" Alex asked.

Meredith rolled her eyes. "What are we celebrating?"

"Er… I don't know, that both of you are out of the ICU and okay?"

"I'm a little tired; I think I'd prefer to just go home," Derek said.

"Yeah, and I'm going to make you two something special for dinner tonight," Meredith decided on a whim. She did not usually cook; in fact, it was a common joke that Derek and Owen had to make sure they fed their wives because otherwise, Meredith and Cristina would starve.

But Meredith could figure out something for one night. She would use the microwave if she had to… she wanted to thank Alex for all he had done and it would be the perfect way to jumpstart _Operation I'm-Mentally-Healthy._

"You don't have to do that. We can order something… how does Chinese food sound?" Alex offered.

"I hate Chinese food," Meredith said. "And no, I want to cook for you guys."

Alex and Derek both seemed a bit skeptical but Meredith did not pay them any attention. She sat quietly for the rest of the drive home and waited for her latest dose of Clonazepam to kick in.

When they arrived, Alex immediately brought Zola inside the house and then came back to assist Meredith with helping Derek. He could walk decently on his own, but there was a large set of stairs in between the car and the front door, and Derek had not been practicing stairs yet.

Nevertheless, the neurosurgeon was gasping for air by the time that they made it into the living room. Meredith and Alex delicately helped Derek sit down on the couch to catch his breath, and Meredith retrieved him a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

"Just sit there and rest for a while. Alex, you sit down, too, and help him with Zola. I'm going to get started on dinner."

"What are you making?" Derek asked. "I don't even remember what we have; it's been so long… half of the food's probably spoiled."

"I went grocery shopping a few days ago. There's some spaghetti if you want to make that, Mer. It's relatively easy," Alex said.

Maybe Alex wanted spaghetti for dinner, but if he did, then that was too bad because Meredith did not even know how to cook noodles that were not instant ramen. She searched the refrigerator and cabinets for almost fifteen minutes for something that was within her culinary knowledge but in the end, came to the conclusion that she was going to have to make Derek and Alex sandwiches.

To make matters worse, Alex had eaten the last of the deli meat so Meredith was forced to pull out the peanut butter and jelly and spread the sticky substances on six pieces of wheat bread. Meredith was not hungry, but she had not been eating hardly anything lately and she did not want Alex or Derek to notice that she was continuing to lose weight.

Five minutes later, Meredith walked back into the living room and delivered the sandwiches, doing her best to prevent her face from turning red. It was not entirely successful.

"Um… this is your special, home-cooked meal?" Alex smirked.

"I… yes…"

"Well, it looks great," Derek said and took a big bite of his sandwich. "Mmm… I can't remember the last time I had one of these."

Grateful for her husband's support, Meredith sat down in between the two men and started to munch on her own sandwich. It was one of the better things she had tasted since being rescued from the woods.

Alex was eating, too; he made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches all the time. It was probably just not what he expected from Meredith's _special dinner_. "Are you gonna make one for Zola, too, when she wakes up from her nap?"

"No, um… I have something else special in mind for Zola," Meredith said, thinking of the nutritious cereal that had been hiding in the cabinet.

Once the three surgeons were finished with their sandwiches, Alex and Meredith helped Derek up the second flight of stairs and into the master bedroom. Small amounts of activity still exhausted him easily, so he needed to take another nap.

While he was sleeping, Meredith fed Zola her cereal and then helped Alex clean up in the kitchen.

"You seem like you're feeling better," Alex remarked as he put away the jar of peanut butter. He had made himself a second sandwich because he was still hungry after eating the first.

"I am," Meredith admitted. It was not totally a lie either. She was not feeling as good as she was pretending to, but the Clonazepam was helping a lot. "I think just… you know, having him home…"

Alex nodded. "Yeah, I understand. Do you think Lexie's gonna move back here when she's better, too?"

"I don't know. I mean, my dad was talking about how he wanted to take care of her and I don't know if we'll have time for round-the-clock care… I don't even know if I'll still live here then."

"Oh, right… Boston," Alex remembered.

"No, I told you… I'm not moving to Boston anymore," Meredith said. "But Derek and I will probably be moving into the Dream House soon and… and you'll be off to Baltimore, right?"

"Yeah, eventually. I'm gonna wait a little while longer, until Arizona is better. I'd really be an ass not to, after what I put her through. But hold on, does Shepherd know you're not going to Boston? Have you talked with him about that yet?"

Meredith shook her head. "We're… probably going to have that discussion tonight."

"Thanks for the warning. I'll be sure to put in my earplugs," Alex joked.

Hopefully, it would not come to that. Meredith did not want to spend Derek's first night at home fighting. If everything went the way that Meredith hoped, she would explain that she felt the need to stay in Seattle, close to Lexie and Mark and Derek would agree. It was not like his hand was healthy enough to operate right now anyway. The only reason that Derek had truly been planning on moving to Boston was Meredith's fellowship. And if she did not want to accept that, it was her decision.

Several hours later, after Zola had been tucked into bed for the night and Meredith was lying in bed next to her husband, watching television, it was time to make the move and unfortunately, it was not a sexual move. Neither Meredith nor Derek were physically healthy enough for intimacy yet, despite the way that they had been fooling around in the ICU yesterday. And Meredith could not procrastinate the inevitable forever.

She reached forward, grabbed the remote, and switched off the bedroom television that Derek had installed when Meredith was recovering from liver surgery.

"You okay?" Derek prompted. "Are you ready to go to sleep?"

"No," Meredith sighed. "But um… listen… we need to talk."

"Okay…"

"I need to tell you something and you need to… not freak-out. You need to listen to me and understand why I'm saying what I'm saying."

"This isn't exactly the way to get me to… not freak-out," Derek said.

So Meredith just said it: "I don't want to move to Boston anymore."

Derek did not look angry at all; actually, more than anything, he appeared sad. "Mer… is this about flying? You don't want to get on a plane?"

"No. I mean, I don't want to get on a plane but that's not why. If we really needed to, we could drive three thousand miles from here to Boston. I don't want to move. I don't want to leave Lexie."

"Well, it's not like we would leave tomorrow, Meredith. We would wait until Lexie was better, out of the hospital. I still have more surgeries to go on my hand and… and you've already given Brigham your word."

Meredith sighed again; it was the same thing that everyone had been saying to her. "But things change, Derek. We were in a plane crash. We almost died. I think Brigham would understand if I needed to reevaluate things and I'm not just saying I don't want to leave Lexie while she's in the hospital. I'm saying I don't want to leave her, period. I don't want to leave Lexie… or, or Mark… or any of our other friends and family here."

"We already talked about all this," Derek said. "We talked about it on the plane before it crashed. I might not remember a whole lot but I remember that. You asked me to try and get Lexie a fellowship spot at Harvard next year…"

"Oh, I highly doubt that Lexie is going to be ready for a fellowship by this time next year," Meredith interrupted. "She's probably going to have to take an entire year off of residency."

"But Cristina is leaving. Alex is leaving. Boston is a lot closer than Seattle to Baltimore and Rochester…"

"I know!" Meredith cried; her voice her risen to a shout for the first time. She took a deep breath and calmed herself. "Okay? I get it. It's not like I haven't thought about this."

There was a long pause; Derek shook his head. "I don't think that's all there is to it. Lexie's going to be okay, Meredith. Even Hunt has said that; she's going to be fine. You were fine with moving before the plane crashed. We'll go and get set up and whenever Lexie's ready to join us, she can."

"Yeah, now you're just lying to yourself. Face it; you want to go and be the Great God of Neurosurgery at Harvard," Meredith spat before she could help it. She knew that was not true; she was not sure why she said it…

Derek was clearly hurt by the remark. "The Great God of Neurosurgery, really? No, this is about you. You were offered a spot at Brigham, the best general surgery program in the country. You don't turn that down."

"We all know it's you they really want," Meredith said.

"We don't know that! I'm not the same man they hired…"

"Don't say that…"

"Meredith, there is a chance… there is a good chance that I might never operate again. And that's okay because I have you and I have Zola and I can teach. But trust me, you don't want this. You don't want to stay at one hospital for your entire career, for one thing and you don't want to have anything less than the very best training possible. Brigham will give you that," Derek explained.

"I don't know; I think the general surgery program at Seattle Grace is pretty badass, too. We have Richard and Bailey and…"

"Dammit, Meredith… I want this for you!" Derek interjected. "I want you to have the opportunity to learn from Margaret Goodwin; she's a Harper Avery recipient! She's the very best there is. We're going."

"We're staying!" Meredith yelled.

"We're going!"

"We're staying!"

"Why the hell is…" Derek suddenly trailed off. He winced and clutched at his stomach.

Meredith paused, too, her frustration evaporating. "What happened? What hurts?!"

Derek did not answer, so Meredith lifted his thermal pajama top. His incisions were holding, but the screaming and movement from the day was obviously putting strain on his still-healing organs.

"Okay, um… that's enough for tonight," Meredith said. She pulled Derek's shirt back down over his stomach and covered him with some blankets. "Just um… just try to get some rest, okay?"

"We're not finished talking about this," Derek said.

"I know. I know, we'll talk more about it tomorrow," Meredith said. "Do you need anything? Do you want some of your pain medication?"

Derek would soon be starting therapy, too, but in the meantime, Schacter had prescribed him Hydrocodone to help the pain associated with his broken hand, fractured ribs, and abdominal surgery.

"Y-Yeah, okay," Derek moaned so Meredith jumped off the bed, ignoring her own physical pain, and retrieved one of the capsules which she brought to her husband, along with a cup of water.

"Thanks," Derek whispered once he had swallowed the pill. "You're… you're not gonna let me get hooked on those, are you?"

"Don't worry; I won't let you end up like Amy," Meredith teased. "Besides, if you survived open heart surgery without getting addicted to painkillers, I think you'll be alright."

Derek smiled tightly; the tension was melting away. "Are you going to sleep now, too?"

"Um… in just a minute. I have to go do one more thing really quick."

Meredith walked back into the bathroom, took out her own supply of medication and swallowed one of everything… Hydrocodone, Clonazepam, Trazodone, and Amoxicillin. She was almost finished with her antibiotics; there were only a few doses left.

Then Meredith laid down in bed next to Derek, letting the warmth of his body wash over her own. He was home. He was alive… he was really home.

That was enough for tonight. Meredith closed her eyes, praying more than ever that the drugs did their job and kept away any nightmares about wolves.

_**Yay! Derek is officially home! Hopefully that combined with Meredith's peanut butter and jelly sandwiches helped balance out the painful MerDer argument. Please don't forget to favorite/follow and review; that all means so much to me! **_

_**Stay tuned for Chapter 22; it should be coming soon, or at least sooner than it took to get this out and it will include a major update on Lexie and Cristina! Love you all and thanks so much for reading and supporting my story! It means so much to me. Xoxo, merderpedia :)**_


	22. Remember the Time

_**Author's Note- Hi, everyone! Sorry that some of these chapters have been taking longer to get out. The story is just getting a little more complicated and I want to make sure I do it justice and don't end up with any gaping plot holes. **_

_**Also, as some of you may know, today is the premiere of Grey's Anatomy season 16. For MerDer stans like myself, this is a particularly difficult day. And honestly, even if you don't ship MerDer, it might be difficult because in my opinion, that show has gone downhill very quickly in the past few seasons. That is why I scheduled this chapter to go up today. It might not be completely happy (this is an angsty story after all) but at least you know MerDer are endgame in my world. I hope this provides you with a nice escape from reality. Enjoy! **_

It was the greatest amount of time that Meredith had spent away from a hospital since she went to Hawaii with Cristina following their intern year. Maybe four days was not all that much, but it felt like it to Meredith. For four days after Derek was discharged from the ICU, all that the couple did was sit at home, watch television, take care of Zola, and talk. They discussed Boston a lot more, and Meredith insisted that Seattle was her home. Meanwhile, Derek reminded his wife that she had, in fact, spent a majority of her life on the east coast.

Meredith wanted to go visit her remaining friends and family in the ICU, but for the time being, she knew it was best to stay home. Derek needed her; it would be strange for him to rely on Alex and there was nothing Meredith nor anyone else could do for Cristina. Arizona was isolating herself, allowing only Callie and Sofia to visit, and as much as Meredith desired to see Lexie, she had no wish to spend any additional time with her father.

More than anything, staying home with Derek gave Meredith the opportunity she needed to heal. She was away from the drama and chaos of Seattle Grace, and got to spend some much-needed time with her husband. By the time that Meredith would return to the hospital, for whatever reason, she promised herself that she would be virtually, if not entirely, back to normal.

Of course, that was easier said than done. The memories from the plane crash were still there and unless Meredith was fully distracted, they were always seeping into her brain… _Lexie vomiting blood in the cockpit… coding on that last day in the forest… Derek growing paler and weaker by the hour… the rock… the knife… the wolves…_

The only good part was the fact that Meredith had somehow kept herself from screaming during her nightmares. This was primarily accomplished by Meredith not sleeping, but during the few times that she had dozed off, she always ran to the bathroom in the middle of the night and ran bathwater so she could cry in private.

At the end of the fourth day away from the hospital, Meredith was lying in bed with Derek as usual when her phone chimed with a text. She picked it up; the message was from her father: _Hi, Meredith. Hope you and Derek are doing okay. We miss you up here. Just wanted to let you know that the team has decided to wake up Lexie tomorrow. It might just be temporary if she's in too much pain but we want to see where she's standing, neurologically. I know Lexie would love for you to be here when she wakes up. Molly and I would love to see you too. Hope to see you!_

The news that Lexie was going to wake-up was good, but Meredith rolled her eyes at Thatcher's message. All the same, she did text him back: _Thanks for letting me know. I'll be there. Any idea what time?_

Thatcher replied: _I think Dr. Hunt said late morning. Can't wait to see you! Love you!_

Meredith turned and faced Derek who was writing some emails on his laptop. It was taking an exceptionally long time, considering that Derek only had use of one hand.

"They're waking-up Lexie tomorrow!"

Derek's frustrated expression turned to one of surprise, happiness. "Really? Did someone just tell you that?"

"Yeah, Thatcher did. They said they're going to do it sometime in the late morning and… and I really need to be there. Are you going to be okay here by yourself?"

"I won't be by myself; I'll have Zola here with me," Derek smiled and Meredith rolled her eyes again.

"Yes, and I'm sure Zola would be such a huge help if you… I don't know, fell down the stairs or something."

"I'll be fine, Mer," Derek laughed. "I won't fall down the stairs."

Meredith paused. "Well, at least let me take Zola to the daycare. I doubt you could lift her by yourself yet and that's too much responsibility. Alex won't be here either."

"I can take care of our daughter by myself, Meredith. Seriously, if anything goes wrong, I'll call you. Please, I… you don't know how sick I am of being useless."

"You aren't useless," Meredith said but there was such a look in Derek's eyes that she had no choice but to surrender. Derek was not stupid. If he got in over his head, Meredith had faith that he would ask for help.

A short time later, Derek fell asleep, eager to get some extra rest since he was going to have a job to do tomorrow. Meredith pretended to sleep, too, but her mind was racing with far too many thoughts. _How was Lexie going to be when she wokeup? Was Lexie's neurological function in-tact? Was Derek truly going to be alright?_

Meredith tossed and turned for hours, even with the help of her Trazodone, and before she knew it, it was 8:00 in the morning and the alarm clock was buzzing.

"What?! What happened?!" Derek groaned, lifting his head off the pillow.

"Nothing. I'm just getting ready to go wake-up Lexie," Meredith said. "You can go back to sleep, if you want."

Reality registered; Derek sat up. "No, we've got stuff to do today. I mean… I have stuff to do today. I'm going to go get Zola."

He was excited about his assignment, so Meredith let him go. While he was down the hall in his daughter's room, Meredith showered and got dressed in a pair of jeans and a purple top, because purple was Lexie's favorite color. All of Meredith's clothes were still too big; she was not gaining weight but she made it work with a plain black belt.

Almost two weeks had now passed since the plane crash victims had returned to Seattle which meant that nearly three weeks had gone by since they had been rescued. It was hard to believe; those four days in the forest seemed like an eternity but now four days had sped by like air.

Alex arrived to pick-up Meredith at 9:00 (the latter was still not cleared to drive) and right before walking downstairs to meet him, Meredith knocked on the door to Zola's room. "Derek? I'm leaving; are you sure everything's okay?"

Zola's door swung open; Derek was standing there, a smile on his face, holding Zola with his good arm. The child was dressed in a cute, blue dress with a yellow collar; Derek was obviously proud of himself. "Everything's great! Isn't everything great, Zola? Can you say bye to Mommy?"

"Bye, Mommy!" Zola cried and reached out towards Meredith with her miniature arms.

"Bye, Zo-Zo; I love you," Meredith said and kissed her daughter on the cheek. "Mommy will be back in a few hours, okay? Mommy's just going to wake-up Aunt Lexie."

"Aunt Lexie… Aunt Lexie sleepy?" Zola asked.

"Yes, Aunt Lexie is still asleep but she's going to wake-up today. Maybe we can go visit her together soon; would you like that?"

Zola grinned and clapped her hands together; she loved Aunt Lexie. "Yay! Auntie Lexie, Auntie Lexie!"

Meredith smiled, too. "Awesome. Take care of Daddy, okay? Don't let Daddy work too hard."

"I love Daddy," Zola said; she threw her arms around Derek's neck.

"I love Daddy, too," Meredith said; she leaned forward and kissed Derek quickly, on the lips. "You call me if you need anything at all. Actually, call me even if you don't need anything. Just call me with updates."

"Yes, dear," Derek agreed.

Alex honked the horn loudly from outside; he was growing impatient so Meredith hurried downstairs and into his Volvo. "Would you hold your horses? I was telling my daughter goodbye."

"Wait, Zola's not coming with us?" Alex realized.

"No, Derek's been feeling useless and he's doing a lot better so he's watching her," Meredith said. "Damn, how early did you have to go in today?"

"There was a kid that needed their appendix out so I went in at 5:00. I need to do what I can for these kids before I hit the road."

"Still no timeline on that?" Meredith guessed.

"Nah, not until Arizona has her other surgery but her infection is getting better and Shepherd's getting better so… I mean… I'm trying to wrap things up."

Meredith did not say anything. She had told herself that she was not going to beg for Alex to stay in Seattle anymore; he had an amazing opportunity at Hopkins that he needed to take… but the thought of Evil Spawn leaving forever was terrifying.

"Have you and Shepherd made a decision as far as Boston goes yet?" Alex continued.

"We're working on it."

"You know, it's your life and you can do what you want, but Boston really isn't far from Baltimore… I mean, not compared to Seattle."

"Yes, I know that; thank you very much."

At the hospital, Meredith found Thatcher and Molly in the ICU hallway, scarfing down a speedy breakfast of chocolate doughnuts. They both had expressions of hope and excitement on their faces that grew brighter when they saw their relative.

"Hey, sweetie!" Thatcher called. "Do you want a doughnut? I picked you one up from the cafeteria!"

"I'm good; I already ate but thank you," Meredith lied. "So um… big day, huh?"

"It's the day we've all been waiting for," Thatcher said.

Molly nodded in agreement. "And then maybe we can all go out to dinner together, like we said. Dad, you, me, Derek… Lexie, if she's up to it!"

Meredith barely held back a snort. Regardless of Lexie's neurological function, she was not going to be leaving the hospital anytime soon. Her injuries were extensive; Lexie was going to require a ton of physical therapy. It was not like she was going to wake-up, cough a few times, and then walk out the door while a light snow fell in the background. This was not a lifetime movie.

But Meredith managed to pull herself together, for Lexie's sake. "Yeah, that sounds good. So um… did everything look okay overnight? I mean, Lexie's vitals were stable and everything?"

"We… actually went home," Thatcher said and his face turned red. "I know, I… I feel bad for doing it but we've been here with Lexie every night and I know we're going to be here every night forward, once she's awake so… Molly convinced me to take a break."

"She's been doing great today, though!" Molly added, brightly. "I'm so proud of her. She's such a fighter."

Meredith nodded and smiled. She did not mention anything about how Lexie had given up hope out in the forest. That was not something that Thatcher or Molly needed to know, especially not when Lexie might not even remember those conversations.

"She sure is going to wake-up to a lot of gifts," Molly continued, probably trying to keep this current conversation going. "I brought her stuff from home and it looks like a ton of other people have sent her goodies from the gift shop… someone named Mark sent red roses and pink balloons shaped like hearts. But… Lexie doesn't have a boyfriend, does she?"

"That was Mark Sloan, one of the other people from the crash. Maybe he sent them to everyone; he's always seemed like a big flirt," Thatcher assumed.

If Meredith remembered correctly, Lexie had introduced her father to Mark before, back during her intern year when they were dating. She cocked her head. "Well, I mean… they… they used to be a thing."

"Yeah, I remember. But that was a long time ago. Lexie broke up with him like, almost three years ago," Thatcher said. "And doesn't Mark have a new girlfriend now?"

"Um… he did but… I don't know. They've been…" Meredith said and she felt her face turn pink with embarrassment. She had revealed something pretty serious about Lexie without her sister's permission and to top everything off, this was not a topic Meredith had ever imagined discussing with her father.

Slowly, Thatcher and Molly exchanged a look and then the latter spoke. "So… so you're saying that he's like, still in love with her? With Lexie?"

"I… don't know. Maybe," Meredith said. She kept herself from adding anything about how Lexie was also hopelessly in love with Mark.

"Okay, well, I doubt that Lexie is going to be interested in boys anytime soon," Molly said. "She's going to be focused on getting better and honestly, I think it's a little selfish of this Mark guy to be asking for her back when she's in a coma."

Thatcher did not respond directly and instead, thankfully, changed the subject. "So what about you, Meredith? How have you been doing? I haven't seen too much of you lately."

"Oh, yeah… I've been… um, at home, resting with Derek. I'm doing okay," Meredith said. "I think I'll be much better after today though, once… Lexie's awake."

"You and me both, girl," Molly laughed. Meredith smiled back at her, a bit late, but some degree of pleasantness was exchanged between the two sisters.

"You know what?" Thatcher suddenly decided, perking up. "I don't want to wait any longer. There's no reason why we should wait any longer. Let's call Dr. Hunt. I want to see my little girl awake right now!"

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Things got delayed for a while. Owen was an extremely busy man, as Chief of Surgery so he had to meet with several other people and assist with an emergency splenectomy before he was able to make it up to the ICU. While she was waiting, Meredith paced back and forth in the hallway, thinking about Zola and Derek who were hopefully not lying on the floor at home.

The word must have spread that Lexie was going to awaken soon, because a crowd began gathering outside of the ICU, too. Nurses and doctors that had worked with Lexie over the years were present, all eager to see her and at 1:00 in the afternoon, Mark showed-up, trudging along with the help of a pair of crutches and Callie.

"Mark!" Meredith called when she saw him and Mark leaned one of his crutches up against the wall so that he could embrace Meredith in a hug. Nothing needed to be said; everyone that had been out in the woods shared an eternal, unbreakable bond.

"There's my Big Grey," Mark eventually sighed and he kissed Meredith on top of her head. "How are you? You hanging in there?"

"I guess so," Meredith said and put on her rehearsed smile. "What about you? How are your burns and everything? Your ankle?"

Mark shrugged; although he was grinning, Meredith could sense a certain amount of pain behind his smile. "Hey… I'm alive. And now, whenever I get back to surgery and I'm doing skin grafts, no one can ever accuse me of not having first-hand experience. If patients want to see my credentials, all I'll have to do is take off my pants and show them the damage."

"That's one way of looking at it," Meredith acknowledged. "Derek's doing better, too. He's at home right now, watching Zola by himself."

"That's great. I'll have to make it over to your place sometime soon, watch the Mariners or something with him," Mark said. "I may have survived that plane crash but if I don't get out of my apartment soon… or, I guess I should say Callie's apartment, then I'm really gonna die."

"I see," Meredith said. There were better and worse coping mechanisms but clearly, Mark was choosing to deal with his trauma by making constant jokes about it.

The plastic surgeon must have been aware of it, though, because his grin returned, rather sheepishly. "I know… I'm working on it. I've only been to therapy once so far."

"Oh, you started therapy? With Dr. Wyatt?" Meredith prompted.

"Nope, not with Wyatt. I know she's the best but apparently each shrink is only allowed to take on one of the plane crash people and you've already claimed her," Mark said. "I'm with Burgess and he's cool. What about you? How's it been going for you?"

Meredith waved her hand to signal moderation. "Er… I've only been once so far, too. I'm working on it."

"Yeah, I guess that's all we can really do," Mark said. "By the way, um… I don't know if you knew but I thought you should… um… I broke-up with Julia."

"Oh, really? Why, did you guys have a fight?" Meredith asked, the sarcasm evident in her tone.

"I guess you could say that. She didn't like it much when I confessed that I was still in love with… another girl."

A huge smile made its way onto Meredith's face. It felt like a breath of fresh air. "I bet she didn't…"

"Hopefully, Lexie still feels the same way now as she did… a month ago. A month ago, when you were off taking your boards, she kinda gave me this… monologue… said she loved me. I was so surprised; I didn't know what to say so I didn't say anything. Obviously, I… I regret that now."

"Why didn't you tell her while we were out in the woods?" Meredith asked. "She talked to me about you so many times… said she loved you and she wasn't sure if you loved her back."

Mark's face turned pink. "Oh, God… I… I don't know why, to be honest. I was a coward. I want Lexie to focus on herself, on getting better. I know that's the priority. So if she's not ready for me when she wakes up, then I'll wait for her. I'm not getting back with Julia. I'll hang out with Callie and Derek and you and… and I'll be there, whenever she's ready."

"Good," Meredith said.

"Good? Hold on; I'm actually getting the Big Grey seal of approval?"

"You had that a long time ago. I can tell that you two love each other… really love each other," Meredith confessed. "You can explain how you feel once she wakes up."

Mark grinned but at this point, their discussion was halted.

Finally, at almost 1:30, Owen had raced into the ICU with an expression of excitement on his face. "Okay, people; are we ready for this?"

"We are more than ready!" Thatcher said.

"Yeah, I can't wait to actually talk with her," Molly agreed.

Owen smiled but then he stopped short just outside of Lexie's room. "Hold on. There's a few things that you all need to know before we do this."

"I know she's still hurt, if that's what you were gonna say," Thatcher said. "I mean, it's kinda obvious, no offense… she has… how many broken bones?"

"Lexie has thirteen broken bones at the moment but no, actually; that is only part of where I was going," Owen said. "I just want you to know that the last time Lexie was awake, she was in the middle of the woods. Thatcher, I know you and Molly have been talking to her but there is a chance that Lexie might not remember anything that happened. She may be confused and frightened when she wakes up and she may be in a lot of pain. If that happens, it's going to be your job to keep her calm. Don't make any loud or sudden movements and try not to get emotional because that will only make Lexie feel worse."

Meredith had heard all of this before so she was mostly ignoring Owen but Thatcher nodded. "Okay, I understand, Doc. Lexie has a really good memory, though; that should help her some, right?"

"It's a possibility," Owen admitted. "We just can't get ahead of ourselves because unfortunately, Thatcher… unfortunately, the truth is, your daughter endured a lot of trauma. We aren't sure what state she'll be in when she wakes up. And for that reason, I don't want to allow anyone except immediate family in there with Lexie, at least in the beginning. If she is feeling alright, then we can add in friends and coworkers later."

Thatcher continued nodding. "Yeah, that sounds fair. So that's Molly, Meredith, and me, right?"

"That is correct," Owen said and from nearby, Meredith saw Mark sit down in a nearby chair next to Callie. His expression was sad; he had also wanted to be there when Lexie woke-up and Meredith knew why.

"Alright," Owen said, snapping Meredith back to attention. "I guess this is it. Whenever you're ready…"

Slowly, to make sure that they would not trigger any stress for Lexie, Meredith and the others followed Owen into Lexie's room. In Meredith's opinion, Lexie did not look any better than she had on their first day back in Seattle. Lexie was pale, emaciated, and more of her body was injured than not. She was barely hanging onto life.

Meredith had to believe that whenever Lexie woke-up, though, things would change. She had to believe that once Lexie was awake and talking, reality would sink in. Meredith would realize that all of the plane crash victims were going to survive the ordeal and she would begin to heal. This time, Meredith would be a good big sister. She would help Lexie recover, every step of the way, even if that meant spending additional time with Thatcher and Molly. Everything was worth it for Lexie.

"Okay, everybody. I am going to stop the drugs that are keeping Lexie asleep," Owen announced and he did some fiddling around with the nearby IV contraptions.

"God, I can't wait," Thatcher sighed. He was sitting on one side of Lexie, holding the hand that was not damaged, and Molly was by her father's side. Meredith stationed herself on the other side of her sister, without a hand to hold, but that was fine. Meredith would touch Lexie's shoulder when she became conscious.

"I want everyone to remember that it probably won't happen right away and that's no reason to be concerned," Owen said and Meredith already knew this but again, Thatcher did not. "Once the drugs are removed from her system… sometimes it can take minutes, sometimes it can take hours. It doesn't mean anything is wrong. We just need to be patient."

Thatcher nodded and took another deep breath. "Okay… okay, that's fine. She can take all the time she needs, as long as she really does wake-up."

Owen chuckled. "Yes… I mean, there are freak accidents and I know that I don't have to explain any of that to your family. I don't foresee anything going wrong though. Lexie's vitals have remained stable. She's young and healthy. It's just a matter of time."

For now, Owen stepped outside of Lexie's ICU room, simply to make the family more comfortable. Meredith knew that he was waiting in the hallway, though, as were a lot of other Seattle Grace employees. Meredith was tolerated, but Lexie was universally loved by everyone for her sweet personality, respectful mannerisms, and of course, her brilliant brain.

"I can't believe she's really going to be here, awake and talking," Thatcher said for what felt like the thousandth time. "I… I don't even know what I should say to her first."

"Just say that you love her. That's what I'm going to do," Molly said and she looked at Meredith. "Hey, you're a doctor. Do you think she can hear us right now? Should we start trying to talk to her and everything?"

No one, not even the best doctors in the world could know whether an unconscious person was aware of their surroundings. Meredith shrugged. "I… I don't know. It's possible. I mean, we can try, if you want, but like Owen said… it's probably going to take a while."

"That's okay. We should try, don't you think, Dad?" Molly asked.

Thatcher evidently agreed; he began rubbing Lexie's right hand, gently. "Lexie? Lexie, sweetheart? Hey, honey… it's Dad. I'm right here. I'm here and so is Molly… and Meredith…"

"Yeah, we're all here and… and I love you so much," Molly added. "Can you hear us? Wake-up, Lexie."

A half hour ticked by, the time going in slow motion. Throughout those thirty minutes, it seemed like Thatcher and Molly did not stop speaking once. Thatcher was getting emotional, despite the way that Owen had told him not to, and Molly was reminding Lexie about all kinds of memories they had shared as kids.

Meredith did not say anything to her sister just yet. She would, obviously, when the time came, but personally, she thought that Thatcher and Molly's speeches were a bit premature. Meredith had seen people take up to 24 hours to wake-up from medically-induced comas. Hopefully, Lexie would not require that much time but Meredith did not need to exhaust herself emotionally.

Still, it was strange to hear Molly telling Lexie their childhood stories. Lexie always had her photographic memory so it was unlikely that she ever had to be reminded about anything before. And, as Molly talked about camping as a family, dance recitals, and touring Ivy League colleges, Meredith realized how much she really did not know about her sister.

When Lexie had first arrived at Seattle Grace four years ago, Meredith had hated her. It was not anything that Lexie had done wrong, but Meredith was in a dark place and she blamed Lexie for the way that their father had abandoned her as a child. Over the years, Meredith eventually grew to like and then to love her sister but now, it was easy for Meredith to see that she only knew a small bit about Lexie. Lexie had lived 24 years before ever meeting Meredith and they had never truly talked about those decades.

For example, Meredith had not known that Lexie had almost died at her first birthday party because of an allergic reaction to the eggs in her smash cake. Meredith had no idea that her sister had once brought home a stray kitten that she found on the street, or that it was that same cat that Lexie later dug up from its backyard grave to bury next to her mother. The cat was named Noodle. Meredith was not aware of Lexie's passion for the city of Paris or that she had won the Scripps National Spelling Bee at age 11 or that she used to practice cartwheels in her living room with Molly and their friends.

So, as time went on, Meredith found it increasingly difficult to contribute to the conversation. She just sat there, scrolling absentmindedly on her phone, and listened as Thatcher and Molly educated her on Lexie's life.

"When you're healthy again and out of this place, we're going to have so much fun," Thatcher promised his middle daughter. "We're going to do all the things we should have done after Mom died. We're going to visit her together and… and make a nice memorial for Noodle. It's going to be just you and me, kid. I'm going to be here with you every step of the way."

Molly nodded, even though Lexie could not see her yet. "Yeah, and… and maybe I'll even move home for a while. I'll bring Laura and Aiden, too. Eric can get by without me… at least, I hope he can. You never know. Remember the speech you gave at my wedding, Lexie? Remember how you sobbed through the entire thing?"

Meredith chucked without meaning to… that was exactly something that Lexie would do. Meredith had a feeling that if she had, hypothetically, selected Lexie as her Maid of Honor instead of Cristina, her sister would have written some long, dramatic toast for the reception.

Meredith's chuckle had caught her family members' attention, though; Molly and Thatcher both looked her way.

"What?" Molly asked.

"Nothing, I just… it's just… that sounds like Lexie. You know, crying through a speech at your wedding. She cried when I told her she was going to be a bridesmaid in mine…"

Molly smiled. "Yeah, that's my big sissy, for you. She feels everything with her whole heart but… but I think it's good. It what makes Lexie, Lexie."

"Why don't you have a turn, sweetie?" Thatcher offered. "Molly and I have been sitting here gabbing this whole time. I'm sure you have some good memories with Lexie, too?"

It was fast, but for a moment, Meredith completely froze. She was not sure if she had any memories with Lexie that did not consist of work in some way or another and if Meredith had to speak, talking about work seemed inappropriate. But then she got a grip on herself and remembered the smaller details, the everyday occurrences that did not seem significant at the time yet were now deemed extraordinary.

Meredith grasped Lexie's left hand. "Hey, Lex… um… don't worry, we're not trying to rush you. We just want you to know that we're here for you. It's me, Meredith and I'm with Dad and Molly. We want you to know that you're loved… by everyone, and we want to make sure you remember all the happier times that are going to come back once you get better.

"Like, um… remember when you made me watch _The Notebook_ because you were upset that I hadn't ever seen it? I started thinking way too much about my mom and Alzheimer's and my future with Derek and… and I pretty much had a panic attack. I said that I hated you but I didn't. It's not possible to hate you.

"And then… oh, yeah… remember when… two years ago, we were trying to help Derek feel more like himself after the shooting and we all went to a Mariners game? It was you, me, Derek, Mark, Owen, and Cristina. Out of the three girls, you were the only one who had a clue in hell what was going on. Cristina and I were drunk, dancing idiots but… but you taught us, or you tried to… it was so much fun."

Lexie did not respond to her sister's stories, not that Meredith really expected her to… it had only been two hours and there were still a lot of built-up toxins making their way out of Lexie's system.

Molly and Thatcher were smiling at the eldest of the Grey sisters, though, and a few seconds later, Owen peeked his head into Lexie's room again.

"Any progress?"

"Nothing yet," Thatcher said. "Is that… bad? Should something have happened by now?"

Owen shook his head. "No, not necessarily. Lexie's been sedated for over two weeks. It's going to take some time to get her body back to normal. I just wanted to let you know, though, Meredith, that there was an… incident outside involving Cristina."

"An incident? What happened?" Meredith asked.

"T-To be honest, I'm not sure," Owen admitted. "Some of the nurses were just standing outside her room, looking in through the glass and Cristina… responded."

Meredith's eyes brightened. "She said something?!"

"No, she… she threw a vase of flowers at the window… broke the glass. We're going to have to put her back into four-points and possibly transfer her to psych. I just thought you would want to know and… and maybe come help, see if you can get through to her."

"Oh, God…" Meredith's heart was sinking. She knew that the field of psychiatry was not actual _crap _like she had once said, but it was still difficult to imagine Cristina Yang being transferred there… strong, smart, sarcastic Cristina that battled her way back from PTSD before, only to undergo more trauma.

A soft hand touched Meredith on the shoulder; it was Thatcher. "Do you need to go, Meredith? We'll be okay here, for a little while."

"Yeah, we'll keep you updated if anything changes with Lexie," Molly said.

Meredith hesitated. Cristina needed her. That was basically what Owen was saying… Cristina needed her and Owen wanted Meredith to help.

If Meredith had been doing anything else in the world, too, she might have gone to help Owen, but as much as she cared about Cristina, Meredith stayed firmly planted in her chair at Lexie's bedside. Right now, Lexie was the priority. Meredith had ignored Lexie's needs too many times in the past. She was not going to do that again, especially not when Cristina had been the one to tell Meredith that Owen was her person now.

_Owen's your person? Then Owen can be the one to commit you to psych, _Meredith said to Cristina in her head. _It doesn't always have to be me. I was the one that had to fix Lexie's cardiac tamponade in the middle of the woods. I was the one that had to smash my husband's hand with a rock. I was the one that had to seal that hand back together with a safety pin and I was the one that had to throw Jerry's lifeless body to the wolves._

"I'm sorry, but I need to stay here right now," Meredith whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."

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Three full hours dragged by in slow, unrelenting pulses of nothingness. Throughout those three hours, Thatcher and Molly did not shift positions once. They never left to use the bathroom or obtain coffee; all they did was sit next to Lexie and talk to her about wonderful, beautiful life.

Meredith had gotten up once, to use the bathroom and check on Mark who was hanging out in Arizona's room with Callie. He had a fresh bouquet of red roses that he planned on giving Lexie when she wokeup, along with a huge, white teddy-bear. Part of Meredith wondered if he was going to propose marriage but hopefully Mark would know better than to go that far.

The first change occurred at approximately 5:00 in the evening. Meredith was scrolling through Facebook, reading the inspirational messages that people had been leaving on Lexie's page when there was a loud beeping noise from above; it was Lexie's heart rate monitor.

Meredith looked up. Her blood pressure, which had previously been only 104/62 had risen significantly to 149/99.

"Is that bad?! Is something wrong; should I get Hunt?!" Thatcher gasped.

Somehow, Meredith was able to stay calm and think logically. "I… I don't think so. I think she's waking-up. Her BP is going up because her pain is beginning to register."

"She's… she's waking up?" Molly realized, her voice wavering with emotion.

"I think so," Meredith said and finally, started speaking with Lexie directly, herself. "Lex? Lex, can you hear me? It's Meredith and Dad's here, too… Dad and Molly. It's okay, Lexie; I know it hurts but we're all right here."

Thatcher squeezed Lexie's hand. "Lexie? Sweetheart? Can you open your eyes?"

Lexie was not responding yet but that was okay; she was clearly on the brink of consciousness. Meredith glanced up at her other family members. "Just so you know, she's probably going to start choking in a second. It will seem scary but that's normal. It means that she's breathing on her own and fighting the intubation."

"Okay," Thatcher said.

"I'm glad you're here, Meredith," Molly added.

Meredith smiled, tentatively. "Thank you. I'm glad you guys are here, too."

Right as Meredith was exchanging pleasantries with Molly, there was movement. Meredith quickly turned, sure that Lexie was awakening only to witness horror.

Lexie was jerking around on the bed like a half-dead fish, her eyes rolled back in her head and foam gathering at her mouth. Her blood pressure had spiked to 188/122.

Molly screamed at the top of her lungs and Thatcher stood up, his eyes wild and focused on Meredith. "IS THAT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN, TOO?!"

_**I'm sorry. Please don't forget to favorite/follow/review. Chapter 23 coming soon. Xoxo, merderpedia :) **_


	23. Going, Going, Gone

_**Author's Note- Okay, guys. So first of all I just want to say that I owe all of you a HUGE apology. I know it has taken forever to get this chapter out and that I ended the last chapter with a huge cliffhanger. Life has been insane though and this chapter in particular contains a lot of medical terminology etc. I'm not a surgeon or a medical professional at all in real life, so I had to do a LOT of research to make sure that everything in this chapter made sense. There is a chance, of course, that I still made some mistakes so please excuse if at all possible and know I worked very hard on this. And no matter what, it should have less errors than the real Grey's Anatomy (which I don't own)! Okay, enjoy (if possible) and try not to hate me too much! **_

"No… no, that's definitely not supposed to happen!" Meredith shrieked and in that moment, it was like her body forgot about all of its still-healing injuries. She jumped up and sprinted to the doorway; thankfully, a lot of doctors, including Owen, were still congregated in the hallway. "SHE'S SEIZING! BP IS 188 OVER 122!"

The Chief of Surgery rushed into Lexie's room. "I need you out of the way right now, Mr. Grey!"

Thatcher was standing next to Lexie, wailing. Molly tugged on her father's arm but it was not until Meredith got on his other side and forcibly dragged Thatcher forward that Owen was able to work.

Crouching over Lexie, who was still shaking violently, he grabbed a hold of her shoulders. "Help me get her on her side!"

Maybe there were other doctors nearby. Maybe Meredith was not supposed to treat family members but right now, the laws of medicine were the last thing on her mind. Meredith got on Lexie's other side and assisted Owen in rotating her so that she would not injure herself worse.

"Were there any other symptoms?" Owen asked as they held Lexie steady.

"N-Nothing… she hadn't woken-up yet or anything," Meredith said. "No history of seizures… do you know what's causing it?"

Usually, all of the employees at Seattle Grace were well-rehearsed at keeping their facial expressions neutral. No matter the situation, worrying family members and putting false-scenarios into their heads did nothing. But this time, Owen was undeniably frantic. "I… I have a hunch. I just hope I'm wrong."

"What is it?!" Meredith asked. She did not get an answer because just then, the nurses and techs were pouring into Lexie's room.

Owen was barking at them. "Push two of Lorazepam! Start sedation now! WE NEED A GURNEY IN HERE, PEOPLE! CALL AHEAD TO CT AND MAKE SURE THEY'RE READY!"

The truth dawned on Meredith. "You think she's having a STROKE?!"

"I… don't know; I don't know anything yet," Owen admitted and then he pushed Meredith out of the way as well; the gurney had arrived.

Everything was moving so fast that looking back, Meredith barely remembered anything. She knew that she had been standing in Lexie's room, watching her little sister be stabilized on the stretcher. The next thing Meredith knew, she was running down the ICU hallway beside the medical team, fighting to get onto the elevator with them.

"Grey, you know you can't be here now. Get back with your family; I'll keep you updated!" Owen ordered.

"I'M COMING!" Meredith screamed back, louder than she thought herself capable.

"No, you're not and the longer you fight me, the longer you're keeping your sister from getting the medical treatment she needs," Owen said and this statement stalled Meredith just long enough for the elevator doors to close without her.

Still unable to feel her injuries, Meredith ran for the nearest set of stairs; hopefully, she could meet Lexie and the others at CT, but before she could do so, a hand grabbed her arm and Meredith spun around to see Molly.

"Meredith, you need to stay here right now. Didn't you hear Dr. Hunt? We all have to stay here."

"BACK THE HELL UP RIGHT NOW!" Meredith screamed. Molly did not move and then another set of hands took hold of Meredith's other arm; it was Richard.

"Come on, Meredith. You know Dr. Hunt will send someone up here as soon as he can with an update."

There was no way out… not unless Meredith wanted to join Cristina in the psych ward. Forced to accept her fate, Meredith allowed Molly and Richard to guide her back into Lexie's room.

Thatcher was already there, sobbing hysterically. "Oh, God… I just can't believe it… I just can't believe it, my poor baby girl…"

"It's okay, Dad. We don't know what's going on yet… maybe it's just some kind of medication reaction. You know Lexie; she's allergic to everything," Molly said.

Meredith doubted it. They had not given Lexie any new drugs. But she kept her mouth shut because the last thing she wanted was to make Thatcher more emotional.

Everyone sat in complete silence for five, ten, fifteen minutes. And then, there were rapid footsteps in the hallway and one of Meredith's favorite ICU nurses, Mary-Katharine, appeared in the doorway.

"What's going on?!" Molly asked and Meredith noticed that this entire time, the two biological sisters had been gripping each other's hands.

Mary-Katharine took a deep breath. "We detected a small bleed on the left hemisphere of Lexie's brain. Judging from the major thoracic surgeries she has recently undergone and her blood pressure spike, our primary diagnosis is a postoperative intracerebral hemorrhage."

"Is… is that… can you fix that?!" Thatcher begged.

"Yes, absolutely. There are no guarantees, of course, but strokes are treatable and the good news in this scenario is that we caught the stroke extremely quickly. They're sedating Lexie as we speak and then one of our outstanding neurosurgeons is going to use an endoscopic evacuation to stop the bleeding. Do you want to better explain what that means, Dr. Grey?"

_No, I'm not a doctor today; I'm the family of a patient,_ Meredith thought but she did not say this out loud. She nodded. "Yeah, um… an endoscopic evacuation is where they drill a small hole in the skull and drain the bleed endoscopically with… with a small instrument. I know it sounds scary but trust me, it's minimally-invasive and a much more solid option than a complete craniotomy."

"Can't you just give her drugs? Won't that fix it?" Thatcher asked Mary-Katharine. "I've heard this minimally-invasive crap before. My wife's surgery was supposed to be minimally-invasive, too, and she left this hospital in a body bag."

"This is so completely different than that, Dad," Meredith said. "Susan got bacterial endocarditis and went septic. Come on, you've got to trust the doctors to do their jobs."

Thatcher did not say anything; he just started crying again and Molly hugged him tightly. Meredith sighed and turned back to Mary-Katharine. "Thanks, MK. Do you happen to know who's operating?"

"Yes, we paged Dr. Nelson. I'll send him up here to speak with you as soon as the surgery is over."

Meredith thanked Mary-Katharine and then once the nurse had wandered back out into the hallway, Meredith did her best to smile at Molly. "It's okay. Nelson is the very best we have."

"Better than Derek?"

"I… yeah, I think so, but don't tell him I said that."

That was a lie, but at this point, Meredith did not need to defend her husband. She needed Molly and Thatcher to believe that Lexie was going to survive because Meredith could not take much more of this soppiness.

In the meantime, the waiting resumed. Meredith stepped out into the hallway momentarily, to update Callie who was keeping Mark informed. She also bought three bottles of water at a nearby vending machine, one for herself and one for Thatcher and Molly, respectively. They were both crying so much; if they did not consume fluids, they were going to become dehydrated.

"Do you think that Lexie's going to have to be sedated again when this is over?" Molly asked. "I mean, just for the pain and everything since she's allergic to opioids?"

Meredith could not answer that question; she was not on Lexie's treatment team. "Maybe… but they'll probably try to wake her up briefly, just to check her neurological status."

Thatcher sighed heavily and wiped at his eyes. "But she'll be okay, right? God, she's… she's got to be okay…"

"I… I hope so," Meredith whispered.

Lexie had had a stroke… Lexie had really had a stroke. Lexie was 28 years old, healthy and stable with no pre-existing medical conditions. Lexie was the last person in the world that Meredith would have thought capable of having a stroke.

Suddenly, Meredith had another flashback but this one had nothing to do with the plane crash. It was from her third year of residency, when Thatcher's liver was failing and Lexie was begging Meredith to save him. Meredith had suggested Molly as a potential donor, but according to Lexie, Molly had a history of DVT blood clots and therefore, could not donate.

"Hey, you've had blot clots before, haven't you?" Meredith said to her youngest sister.

"Yeah, I've had three DVT blood clots, once when I was a teenager and then again after each of my kids were born," Molly said and her face went pale. "Wait, do you think I could have done this to her, like, genetically?!"

"No, you aren't Lexie's parent. It just sounds like it might be something that runs in the family."

"So I did this to her?!" Thatcher cried.

"Er… no, probably not. I don't have a history of blood clots. Maybe it comes from Susan's side but try to remember that no matter whose side it comes from, you guys have all survived your blood clots," Meredith said.

Neither Thatcher nor Molly had time to reply, because just then, Owen rushed into the room, his face bright red from running. "Good news, Grey family… they just finished Lexie's procedure. Everything looks good. She should be back up here in the ICU shortly."

Thatcher and Molly sighed with relief. Meredith hesitated, leery thanks to the years she spent dedicated to neurosurgery. "What part of the brain was the bleed located? Does Nelson anticipate any lasting damage?"

"I'm not sure of the specifics but Nelson will be up here soon with a more thorough explanation," Owen said. "Regardless of the location, though, Meredith… we caught the bleed extremely quickly."

"It wasn't in the brain stem, right?"

"No, it was not. Left hemisphere. Somewhere in the temporal lobe is what I heard Mary-Katharine say."

_The temporal lobe. _It could be worse. It could be better, too. Meredith's mind was having a difficult time choosing one area of Lexie's brain that she would most like to be compromised. Anything that helped store memories was bad. Photographic memory or not, Lexie was brilliant and Meredith did not know what she would do if her sister could not recall the last five years of her life.

What if someone needed to tell Lexie that her mother was dead? What if they had to tell her over and over again?

Meredith was getting ahead of herself. The temporal lobe could be forgiving. Brains, as a whole, were resilient, unique in the way they could learn to rewire themselves.

Taking a short, steadying breath, Meredith nodded and thanked Owen. There was nothing more that he could do. There was nothing more that anyone could do, not until Lexie woke-up and her neurological function was assessed.

"Hold on," Molly gasped after Owen had left the room. "He didn't say whether we'll still be able to wake her up or not. Do you think she'll still be able to wake-up, Meredith?"

"Yeah, I… I mean, it might not be for long, depending on how much pain she's in," Meredith said. "After something like a hemorrhagic stroke, though… it's important to get her at least semi-conscious and make sure everything's working okay."

"What wouldn't be working okay?" Thatcher pressed. "I thought this Nelson guy fixed Lexie."

"Well, I… he fixed the bleeding but with neurosurgery, you never know…"

Thatcher's eyes were growing big and watery. "You never know… what?! Her brain might not work right?!"

"I… I mean it's just a possibility. But you heard Dr. Hunt. We caught the bleed fast and it was small and… and the surgery went well. She's probably going to be fine," Meredith said, convincing herself as much as she was her father.

"Well, I want to talk to this Nelson guy myself. I want a doctor's opinion on all this."

"I am a doctor, Dad," Meredith said; the air was awkward and silent.

Luckily, just then, the Grey family was saved from further humiliation. The gurney carrying Lexie was rolled back into the original ICU room; Thatcher, Molly, and Meredith regathered around her.

"What are we thinking, Doc? She's going to be okay, right? Or did you screw up her brain somehow?" Thatcher asked.

Nelson, who had accompanied Lexie, sighed. "It's hard to say. We caught the bleed early but it was a hemorrhagic stroke. We never know what kind of neurological deficits were suffered. Have you talked with your other daughter about these types of bleed? I coached her myself in the neurosurgery department for a couple years; she would have been great in the field if she hadn't opted to follow in her mother's footsteps with general."

Thatcher stuttered, uncomfortably. "Er… well, of course… and thank you for that, Dr. Nelson. Of course, we're all very proud of Meredith but you must understand right now, my main concern is Lexie. In your professional opinion… is Lexie going to be alright?"

"I can make no promises but I will tell you that the odds are in our favor. I'm going to get the EEG up and running, make sure her brain activity is strong and steady… that will at least give you some peace of mind prior to Lexie waking," Nelson explained.

"How long should it take for her to wake up this time?" Molly inquired.

"Again, it… it's hard to say. Whenever you're dealing with the brain, anesthesia tends to be metabolized slower. If I had to guess, though… I would be looking for some kind of motor response from Lexie within the next few hours. Once we get that response, whether it's a squeeze of the hand or her saying one of your names, we will, in all likelihood, sedate again. Lexie's going to be in a lot of pain and the last thing we want is for her blood pressure to go back up, for her brain to swell again."

This was suitable information; Thatcher and Molly conceded. Nelson did as he had illustrated and reconnected the EEG wires to Lexie's tender skull. He lifted her eyelids, gently, and shined a flashlight in each of them.

"Everything look good, Doc?" Thatcher asked, unable to restrain his frantic mind.

Nelson was fiddling around with the EEG wires, as if something had gone askew. Meredith's pulse increased; the neurosurgeon flipped a switch. "I think so…"

"You THINK so?!"

"Well, her brain activity is a little inconsistent but there are a million possible explanations for that. Lexie is still coming out of heavy sedation. Let's just give her some time to wake-up," Nelson said.

"You stay right here with us," Thatcher ordered. "Whenever she wakes up… I don't want her to be in pain, not for a second."

Meredith checked her phone, briefly. She still had no messages from her husband, despite Derek's promise to keep his wife updated. "Derek's probably wondering where I am."

"You're not going to leave now, are you?"

"No, I… of course not," Meredith answered her father. "Derek's a big boy. He can get by without me for a few more hours but I probably won't be able to spend the night."

"That's okay. I don't think we're going to be leaving this room anytime soon," Molly said. "God, I can't wait for her to wake-up. I can't wait to tell her that I love her."

"Maybe we should start trying to talk to her again," Thatcher suggested. "I know she's still snoozing but… I don't know… can she hear us, Nelson?"

Nelson shrugged. "It's impossible to know. Every case is different. Go ahead and talk to her, though. There have been plenty of instances where the presence of loved ones has helped pull patients out of anesthesia."

So that is what they did… Meredith stayed quiet, for now, but Thatcher and Molly began gabbing about Lexie's childhood and college years and boys that she had dated. According to Molly, Lexie had one really awful relationship with a guy named Rohan and the family giggled about the memories.

Meredith did not realize that it was 9:00 until Mary-Katharine looped around and informed the Greys that quiet hours were beginning, which meant that they needed to keep their voices down.

"Hold on; it's been two hours already?" Molly said. "Dr. Nelson, I thought you said that Lexie was supposed to give us something by now… some kind of response?"

Thatcher nodded, rapidly. "You did! You did say that! What's going on; is something wrong?!"

"There's not a specific deadline. Sometimes it takes people an hour to wake-up after brain surgery; sometimes it can be several," Nelson said. "My only concern is…"

He trailed off. Meredith knew the direction of his mind, though. "The lack of brain activity?"

"Shut up and let the doctor talk, Meredith," Thatcher spat angrily.

"No, your daughter is correct, Mr. Grey," Nelson confirmed. "Actually, to be perfectly honest with you… the more time that goes by, the more concerned I'm becoming with the EEG."

Meredith's heart plunged to the ground, yet at the same time, her body had gone completely numb.

"W-What does that mean?" Molly whimpered.

"Like I said, it could mean a million different things. Right now, it means we need to watch her closely and hope something changes soon," Nelson said.

"Or… what? What if something doesn't change? What then?"

Nelson was being increasingly vague. Some doctors did this when they did not want to personally break bad news to patients' families and this case was surely difficult for everyone involved. Meredith already understood, though. She knew the truth and she did not need to hear Nelson describe it a million different ways. She stood up, and turned towards the door.

"Meredith, sit down. Where do you think you're going?" Thatcher snapped.

"Um, I… I just need to… tell Mark and Callie. I… I promised Mark and Callie I would keep them updated," Meredith said.

"But we don't know what it means yet; Nelson isn't finished explaining," Molly argued. "Come on, sit down. Nelson can go out and update Lexie's friends afterwards."

This was unbearable. Meredith shook her head, desperately. "No, I… I just… I have to go."

Meredith knew that she would not be followed; Thatcher and Molly were glued to Lexie's bedside, far more interested in interrogating Nelson like he was a murder suspect than they were in their inconsistent relative.

Out in the corridor, Callie was sitting on a bench with Mark. "Is something wrong?"

"No, Lex is just… taking a while. I needed a little break from my other family members," Meredith said and tried, hastily, to think of another subject. "Um… where did Owen go?"

"I think he went up to the fifth floor to check on Cristina," Mark replied, darkly.

In all the chaos, Meredith had forgotten about her best friend, her _person_ who had been committed to the psych ward. "Oh… right. I guess I… I should…"

"I was actually about to go check on Arizona and see if Owen needed anything," Callie said. "Mer, while you're escaping your family, you mind sitting with Mark for a while?"

Mark rolled his eyes. "What, do I need a babysitter now?"

"Technically, yes. You're supposed to be resting that ankle and you keep getting up and doing stupid stuff," Callie said. "And Mer needs to rest, too, so just… keep each other company."

They accepted the proposal. As Callie marched off towards Arizona's room, Meredith took her friend's place next to Mark who slipped an arm around her. "You hanging in there, Big Grey?"

"I guess so," Meredith said. "What about you? Aren't you supposed to be resting?"

"I am resting; I'm sitting down, aren't I?" Mark grinned. "And I could say the same about you. Don't you have like, three broken ribs?"

"They're healing but yeah… I probably shouldn't have helped Owen lift Lexie or sprinted down to the elevators."

"Probably not your finest idea ever," Mark said. "Damn, this has been the longest day ever and it's only 9:00. I'm getting old."

It did seem like an eternity ago that Meredith had said goodbye to Zola this morning. She yawned. "Yeah… maybe not quite as long as that last day in the woods but… still pretty damn long."

Mark paused and sighed. "Yeah, I guess I was forgetting about that day. I'm doing all I can to block those memories out but it's hard because I wasn't even lucky enough to sustain brain damage."

It was intended as a joke but Meredith did not laugh. _Brain damage. _Lexie had brain damage. Perhaps it was survivable. Perhaps Lexie would wake up and simply have to be taught how to talk and walk and function. Or perhaps death would be preferable…

"What?" Mark prompted when Meredith did not respond.

"Oh… nothing. How does your shrink feel about your coping mechanism?"

"I mean, I'm aware that I'm a mess so he says that's a good thing. I have another appointment with him tomorrow. What about you? How have you been dealing?"

"The same method I used after the shooting… I take care of everyone else and eventually, I'm bound to get distracted by some other drama. It is Seattle Grace Mercy Death, after all."

"Nice," Mark acknowledged.

He was possibly going to say more but just then, Thatcher's agonized wailing could be heard, accompanied by Molly's sobs. Mark's face went pale white. "Is… is that good? D-Did she wake up?"

"I… I don't think so," Meredith admitted.

"Well, you should get in there… get in there and check it out; see what's happening!"

"I… I don't think…"

The door to Lexie's room flew open and Nelson paced out, his face somber. Molly was close behind but Thatcher did not move from Lexie's bedside.

"What happened?!" Mark repeated. "Did she wake up?!"

Molly shook her head, choking back tears. "N-No… something went wrong during the surgery and now… now they don't think she's… she's g-going to wake up at all…"

"No, that's not what I said," Nelson claimed. "Nothing went wrong during the surgery. The procedure was flawless. But Dr. Sloan, I'm sure you know that sometimes, even in the most perfectly executed surgeries… things happen. It's rare but it happens and unfortunately, we're seeing minimal brain activity on Lexie's EEG."

_Minimal brain activity._ The words that Meredith knew were coming sunk into her mind like concrete.

"B-But… but she's not braindead, right?" Mark pleaded.

"No, she is not. Her brain stem remains intact," Nelson said. "It's only been a few hours since surgery so of course, things could still change but thus far, her brain activity has not progressed. The more time that goes by, the less hopeful I am that… that things will change, unfortunately."

Mark's body had gone perfectly still and when he spoke, it was in a monotone. "Yeah… yeah, I know the drill. It's too soon to call it an actual vegetative state. And chances are, she won't wake-up. But you can't call it brain death because that wouldn't be right and it could get you sued on the legal paperwork. If she does wake up, she… in all likelihood, she won't hold anything close to the neurological function she did previously… because her body's just endured too much trauma. Does that about cover it?"

It appeared that Nelson had been rendered speechless. If that was not the case, Meredith still failed to imagine what anyone could have said to Mark in that moment, to comfort him. This scene, and everyone involved in it was inconsolable so with no one to stop him, Mark ditched his crutches and hobbled away, down the hallway, doubtlessly eager to be anywhere else.

Meredith did not need to hear anymore either. She stood up, avoiding Molly's gaze. "I… I have to go, too, I…"

"No, Dr. Grey, stop. You know there are exceptions and it's not like we're going to discontinue Lexie's ventilator anytime soon…"

That was not what Meredith was worried about, though. In fact, if Lexie was not going to wake-up, then Meredith would prefer to unplug her here, now, today. The worst thing in the world was when a patient's family wanted to keep their loved-one on life support despite their absent brain activity. The worst thing in the world was watching someone die in slow motion.

Two particular cases were flashing through Meredith's mind… Alison Clark, the wife of Gary Clark who had shot up Seattle Grace Mercy West after his wife had a postoperative stroke and minimal brain activity. He had wanted to keep Alison on a ventilator but based on Alison's advanced-directive, the hospital was legally obligated to unplug her because there was no chance that Alison was going to wake-up…

And then Mary Portman… another patient that had been in the hospital on the day of the shooting. All she needed was a simple colostomy bag reversal… Bailey performed it flawlessly, but after the surgery, Mary never woke-up. Sometimes it happened…

Meredith sprinted out of the ICU, past Thatcher and Molly, who were both inconsolable… perhaps they wanted her to stay and cry with them, but Meredith did not have the emotional capability…

She continued running until her fractured ribs could take no more and Meredith ducked into a random, empty patient room and found Mark sitting on the bed, tears streaming from his eyes.

He tried to speak but his chest was heaving up and down. Several minutes passed broken only by the sound of sobbing and then Mark cleared his throat.

"It's… it's so ridiculous. I mean, L-Lexie's young. She's healthy… N-Nelson did an incredible j-job."

"Not as good as Derek would have," Meredith said.

"No, probably not," Mark agreed and bit his trembling lip.

Meredith sat down next to him. She wanted to comfort him, because she knew what it was like to think that the love of your life was going to die, but that was impossible. It was Meredith's sister and she needed Mark to comfort her…

Instead, Meredith reached into her purse. "I have some Clonazepam, if you want…"

Mark nodded eagerly. There were only a few pills left, but this was an emergency. Meredith would find somebody else to prescribe her anxiety medication soon.

Carefully, Meredith passed Mark one of the precious pills and kept another for herself.

"Cheers," Mark said and they humorlessly pressed their Clonazepam together before swallowing them with sips of water from the sink.

Meredith shook her head. "It's not working…"

"You've got to give it time but… yeah, I know what you mean. I don't think anything is gonna work," Mark said. "But you're lucky. At least you've got a shrink who actually prescribes you medicine. Mine won't give me anything until I actually start talking."

Again, Meredith did not say anything. She was not sure if she should reveal the truth or not.

"So… what are you doing now? Are you staying up here with your dad?" Mark continued.

"No, I need to get home to Derek," Meredith said. She knew that she should have stuck around longer and made sure that Mark was okay, but there was nothing that she could do for him. There was nothing that anyone could do.

Meredith got up and resumed her path downstairs, paging Alex to the lobby as she went. All Meredith wanted to do was walk across the street to Joe's and indulge in alcohol. She wanted to drown out the pain of losing Lexie with as many shots of tequila as she could handle and if Derek were not waiting for Meredith at home, she probably would have done just that.

Derek and Zola were waiting, though, so Meredith paced outside of Seattle Grace, hyperventilating until Alex jogged up to her.

"Hey, what's going on? Is Lexie awake?"

"I need to go home," Meredith said, ignoring the question. "Um… I'm sorry if you're not done working but… but Derek needs me and I need to go home."

The expression on Meredith's face must have said it all; Alex instantly fished his keys out of his lab coat pocket. "Yeah, okay… what's going on? Did something happen with Shepherd?"

"I'll… explain later. I just need to go home," Meredith repeated.

It was not until the duo was out of the hospital parking lot, on the main road that Meredith remembered Cristina, who was possibly trapped in the psych ward by now. Maybe Meredith should have gone to visit her before leaving… informing Cristina that one of the plane crash victims was not going to survive was not the ideal way to help her though and suddenly, Meredith knew that she could not tell Derek either… not yet.

Derek was barely back on his feet. He wanted to feel useful; he wanted to be there for Meredith. If he knew that Lexie was virtually braindead, there was a good chance that Derek would derail completely and escape to his trailer in the woods.

Meredith would be normal. Meredith would be mentally healthy. Meredith would smile and be happy…

"Okay, thanks… you can go back to work now; I know you're on-call tonight," Meredith said when Alex dropped her off in front of the house.

"Hold on; don't you want me to come inside real quick? If Shepherd's hurt, I might need to help," Alex said.

"No, he's not hurt. It's… it's something else and we just need some time," Meredith said. "Please, go back to work."

Alex must have sensed that his friend needed to be alone so he did as he was told. Meanwhile, Meredith dashed up the stairs, through the front door and quickly did a lap around the downstairs floor. Derek and Zola were not in the kitchen… or the living room, bathroom, or dining room…

"Derek?" Meredith called and immediately, the images flashed before her eyes… _running through the forest that all looked the same… wondering if she was ever going to see her husband again… finding him in a pool of blood…_

"Derek?! DEREK!"

"What's wrong?!"

Meredith spun around; Derek was standing at the top of the stairs, his face beyond exhausted. He was not lying in a pool of his own blood, but Derek's day with Zola had doubtlessly been rough.

Meredith swallowed back her tears and took a deep breath. "Oh… there you are. How are you feeling? How's Zola?"

"She's finally asleep. Has she always had this much energy? Because I don't remember her having this much energy," Derek yawned.

"I… I don't know," Meredith said and then made her way up the stairs and placed a hand on Derek's shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. I'm here now and you're tired. Come on, let's go to bed."

She was not sure, but Meredith thought that she heard Derek sigh with relief. "I… I didn't know you were going to be gone that long."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. Lexie took a little longer than we expected to wake-up," Meredith lied.

"But she's awake now? Why aren't you up there with her?"

"Oh, my dad's up there and I can only take so much of him," Meredith said and gently helped Derek sit down on their bed. "Besides, you obviously need me right now."

"I'm okay," Derek said but then adjusted his torso and gasped with pain. "I mean… I… ouch…"

Meredith ran her fingers through her husband's hair and kissed him on the forehead. "Shh… it's okay. What hurts?"

"Um… I think it's mostly just my ribs but my chest doesn't… feel great…"

"You're having chest pains?" Meredith clarified, her own heart rate picking up.

Derek shook his head. "It… it's nothing; I'm sure it's… it's just from… the lung surgery…"

That was not reassuring to Meredith, who had once lost a patient less than one hour after he walked into the emergency room with chest pains. She had brought her stethoscope home from the hospital so grabbed it out of the closest drawer, shoved the eartips in and held the diaphragm to Derek's chest. His heart was beating quickly, but not dangerously.

"Am I gonna live, Dr. Grey?" Derek asked.

"D-Don't joke about dying; it's not funny," Meredith said but removed the stethoscope and hung it around her neck as if she was at work. She pressed her hand to Derek's forehead. "Do you feel nauseous at all?"

"No. I'm fine, Mer… seriously, I'm… I'm not having a heart attack. I'm just exhausted from running after our daughter all day."

Meredith pursed her lips. She was probably overreacting, but after experiencing what she had at the hospital, she was not going to ignore chest pains. "You have to tell me if it gets worse, even by a millimeter. Promise?"

"I promise," Derek said.

"And I need you to keep this promise, unlike the one that you made earlier when you said you would give me updates on your day."

"Mer, I… I didn't have time to call you. I'm sorry. I would have if something happened but it took me twice as long to do anything because half of me is completely useless."

"Don't say that; it's not true," Meredith urged. "Now, lay back. I'll get you one of your pain pills. You haven't taken one in the last four hours, have you?"

"I… I don't remember but I don't think so. I don't think I've had time to do that," Derek said.

Meredith was not sure if she was supposed to laugh. Either way, she could not force herself to do so… she turned away from Derek so that he could not see her face as she retrieved one of his Hydrocodone capsules and a glass of water from the bathroom.

"Okay, here you go," Meredith said a few seconds later and handed the goods to Derek who was sitting up in bed, the blankets covering him waist-down. "Did you eat today?"

"Yes, I made Zola some macaroni and cheese for dinner and I ate some of that," Derek said; he swallowed his pill obediently. "What about you; did you eat?"

"Yeah, Mark was there and he sent Callie to the cafeteria to buy us all dinner," Meredith said, fibbing again. "I can get you something else if you want; the mac and cheese probably didn't fill you up…"

"I'm fine, Meredith," Derek insisted. "Come on, I just want to see you. Get over here."

There was no way around it; Meredith would simply have to resist her emotions. She changed out of her uncomfortable outfit from the day and into a soft pair of dark purple pajamas… purple for Lexie…

Meredith had just climbed into bed next to her husband and rested her head on Derek's shoulder when the latter spoke: "So tell me about your day… how was Lexie?"

"Oh, um… Lexie was okay. She was in pain, understandably but…"

"How's her neurological function? Does she remember everything that happened?"

"Er…" Meredith paused. Her throat had closed up completely. There was no way she was going to be able to talk without crying.

"Meredith?" Derek prompted and rubbed her arm, softly. "What happened?"

And all at once, Meredith's guard came tumbling down. There was no way she was going to be able to hide this from Derek. Even waiting a week was not an option; Derek would hear it from Mark by tomorrow. Releasing her husband's hand, Meredith covered her face and let the tears come.

"Meredith?" Derek repeated. "Are you crying?"

"N-N-No!" Meredith shouted but there was no hiding it. Her body was racking with sobs and she doubled over on the bed, hyperventilating.

"Oh, God," she heard Derek say and then his arms were around her. "Meredith… Mer, talk to me…"

She shook her head, wildly. "I… I can't, I can't…"

"You can't… talk to me?" Derek asked but Meredith did not say anything so his healthy hand just continued rubbing his wife's back. "Shh… it's okay. I'm right here. I'm right here, Mer…"

Finally, Meredith leaned her head back up yet kept her eyes closed; she did not want to see Derek's reaction to her face which had to be a mess, covered with tears and snot. "It's… it's L-Lexie…"

"What happened to Lexie? Is it her memory?"

"N-No, it's not her m-memory because… because Lexie didn't w-wake up! She… she's p-probably not going… to wake-up… she… she had a stroke…"

There was a long pause as Derek digested this piece of news. "What…?"

"LEXIE HAD A STROKE!" Meredith screeched and swatted her husband away. "They were… waking her up and… and her BP spiked. She had… a seizure… it was p-probably a… post-operative…"

Derek's face had gone completely white. "Oh, God… was it ischemic?"

"N-No… it was… an intracerebral hemorrhage."

"Dammit," Derek said. "Was it caught in time to operate? Where was the bleed located?"

"Um… left temporal lobe, I think… I don't know the details but yeah, Nelson… he did an endoscopic evacuation. It… it went perfectly but… but there's… m-minimal brain activity… she's… braindead…"

"Hold on," Derek said and put his hand on Meredith's face. "She's braindead? Or there's minimal activity? There's a difference and you know it."

Meredith shrugged and wiped at her nose. "It's… it's like Alison Clark, I think… we w-were able to catch it but… the EEG… it was…"

"It's an entirely different scenario. I will never forget the Alison Clark case. She had a massive stroke and we didn't catch it for an hour. Lexie's was small and you caught it right away. She stands a better chance than Alison Clark ever did. And Little Grey is a fighter; we know that. She's made it this far."

"That doesn't m-mean anything," Meredith said. "Stop trying to make me feel better. Big or small, the end result is the same… Alison and Lexie both ended up with minimal brain activity…"

"Minimal, not braindead," Derek said. "I'm the neurosurgeon. I know what I'm talking about… if you want, I'll go in tomorrow and examine Lexie myself."

"You haven't been cleared to p-practice medicine," Meredith cried.

"I'm not going to do anything. I'm not going to operate or even take her vitals by myself… just let me visit her, as her big brother."

Meredith shook her head. It was not that she was rejecting Derek's request, but she was just empty. She was tired of everything, including having hope. "I… I can't… I don't…"

"Okay, we… we don't have to talk about it anymore right now. Right now, let's just keep you distracted, okay?"

"D-Distracted? You really think you're going to be able to distract m-me from the fact that… my sister is dying?!"

Derek appeared to consider this; he looked around the bedroom. "Look, um… can you get up? Bring me my laptop. It should be on the desk in the study."

"Why?"

"I'll explain when you get back. Please, go get my laptop," Derek begged so reluctantly, Meredith did as she was told.

When she returned, Derek took the computer, turned it on, and opened his professional email account.

Meredith raised her eyebrows. "This is the distraction? Your work emails?"

"Yes, I have a very important email to write and you're going to help me because it's hard for me to type. Do you think you can do that?"

In Meredith's opinion, it was not one of Derek's most genius ideas but he was trying so she went along with it. "I… yeah, I guess so."

"Good, you can take this," Derek said and passed the laptop over to Meredith. "The recipient is already entered so I just need you to type exactly what I say. Tell me when you're ready."

"I'm ready," Meredith said.

"Okay, here we go," Derek said and cleared his throat. "_Dear Dr. David Norwillo… Hello, this is Dr. Derek Shepherd of Seattle Grace Mercy West. I am sorry that my communication with you has been inconsistent but as I am sure you have heard, my wife and I were recently involved in a serious accident and we have had a lot of important decisions to make, related to our health and our lives."_

Derek paused as Meredith typed and then he looked at her. "Have you got that?"

"Yep… keep going."

"_Unfortunately, in this accident, two of the metacarpal joints in my left hand were crushed. I am in the process of undergoing several surgeries to restore use of my hand but there is no guarantee that I will ever operate again. My wife, Dr. Meredith Grey was also injured in the plane crash and both of us have several friends and family members currently in distress. For these reasons, we have decided that at this time, it is not right for either of us to move across the country to Boston…"_

"Hold on!" Meredith interrupted. "Hold on, what are you doing?! What are we doing?!"

"You are writing an email for me and you're not done. Continue please, Meredith."

Meredith's mouth was hanging open with surprise but she positioned her fingers back on the keyboard and Derek resumed his speech: _"I am aware that I had already accepted the position of Chief of Neurosurgery and words cannot express my regret at having to go back on my word. Please understand that I have the utmost respect for Harvard Medical School, Massachusetts General Hospital, and you as a surgeon. If it works out in the future, I would be honored to work alongside you again, but at this time, my wife and I have agreed that our first priority must be ourselves and our health._

"_Thank you so much for everything you have done for my wife and I in these past few months. Trust me when I say that this was an extremely difficult decision to make, and I wish you nothing but the best in your future endeavors. Please feel free to reach out if you have any questions or need anything. Again, I apologize for the late notice. Sincerely, Dr. Derek Shepherd."_

Meredith finished typing and set Derek's laptop down in front of them on the bed, but did not send the email. "Why the hell are you doing this?"

"Because… like I said, this doesn't seem like the right time," Derek said.

"You've been begging me to go to Boston for weeks. Dr. Schacter is going to fix your hand!"

"I know he is," Derek agreed. "And when he does, then I can go back to being the Chief of Neurosurgery at Seattle Grace Mercy West Hospital."

Meredith shook her head. "No… no, we need to think about this and… and fight about this some more. You're supposed to tell me that Brigham is the best general surgery program in the country and that I'm supposed to go there because staying in Seattle won't bring Lexie back."

"Are you saying that you want to move to Boston now?"

"No, I… I'm not saying that but I want you to be happy, too, and I don't want you giving up on your dreams for me. I mean… maybe this can just get postponed…"

Derek smiled sadly. "Meredith… I have you and Zola. I'll be happy. We can move into the Dream House that I built for us. I doubt Mark will want to buy it now anyway."

_Why? Because he won't have anyone to share it with? He broke-up with Julia and now Lexie is going to die,_ Meredith thought internally. She pursed her lips and stared at her husband with big, soppy eyes.

"Send the email, Meredith," Derek said.

Meredith picked up the laptop and scanned over the paragraphs she had written once. If she did as Derek asked, she would also have to get on her own personal computer and email Dr. Margaret Goodwin at Brigham. That would be an awkward conversation, considering how many times Meredith had rescheduled her interview there.

She took a deep breath and then glanced at Derek and handed the laptop back over to him. "You send the email. I don't want to give you any ammunition to use against me in the future… you know, that I was technically the one that sent the email and rejected your offer from Harvard."

"I wouldn't do that to you," Derek said but he took the computer and after proof-reading the email himself, clicked the _send_ button.

Meredith looked at him. "We probably should have talked to Owen first… made sure that he was willing to hire us back here."

"I don't think you're going to have any trouble with that. He's been desperate for even one fifth-year resident to stay in Seattle," Derek said. "And I might get off easy. If Dr. Schacter doesn't fix my hand, then I'll just be a full-time, stay-at-home dad."

"You couldn't do that. You're still a doctor. You could be a neurologist or a lecturer and besides, Schacter is going to fix your hand."

Derek pressed a quick smile onto his face; it looked fake. "I know… I know he is… now, let's try to just sleep on that. Are you feeling any better?"

"I feel… distracted, at least," Meredith said. "There's another option if your surgical career doesn't work out. You could be a shrink. God knows I could use one in the family."

"Mentioning shrinks, I'm supposed to go in for my first therapy appointment tomorrow and go over the surgical plan with Schacter," Derek said. "How are your sessions with Wyatt going?"

Meredith had still only seen her psychiatrist the one time. She had a second appointment scheduled, but blew it off, and as much as she wanted to blow off another one, Meredith knew that was not smart. If she continued to no-show, Wyatt was bound to reach out to Meredith's emergency contact, who just so happened to be Derek and he had enough to worry about… plus, without being cleared by Wyatt, Meredith would never be allowed to operate again.

"They're okay but I had to cancel one so I'll probably see if she has any openings tomorrow, too," Meredith said. "And maybe while we're up in psych, we can visit Cristina."

"What happened to Cristina?"

"Um… she was committed to psych today," Meredith said and stared down at the comforter like a coward.

Still, she could see Derek's shocked expression out of the corner of her eye. "She… what?"

"She hasn't made any progress since we were rescued and then today, she threw a vase of flowers at a window and broke the glass. Owen didn't have an option, apparently and… yeah…"

Derek slipped his arm around Meredith's shoulders. "Damn… I'm sorry, Mer. Yeah, we'll go visit Cristina tomorrow, too. Maybe she'll be better. Maybe they have something, some kind of medicine that can help her."

"Yeah… maybe," Meredith said.

"Okay so… until then… sleep?" Derek assumed; according to his eyes, he was fighting to stay awake. "My chest is feeling better. You distracted me, too."

Meredith smiled. She wanted to make some kind of witty remark about how she wished they could have hot sex, but that would be a lie. For once, Meredith did not feel like doing anything like that with Derek. She could barely function and sex would be too much work.

Slowly, she slid down on the mattress next to her husband and curled up against him. She was not going to take any Trazodone tonight. If she did, Meredith knew that she would fall asleep and if she fell asleep, then Meredith knew she would have unrelenting nightmares about her sister's corpse. That would not support _Operation: I'm-Mentally-Healthy._

_**Well the good news is, Meredith and Derek (and Zola) are officially not moving to Boston! But the bad news is… well, that's pretty obvious. PLEASE don't forget to favorite/follow and review because that all means so much to me! And please always remember that as much as it may seem like it, I am not Shonda or Krista. I promise things will get better. Love you guys so much and thank you for sticking with me. Xoxo, merderpedia :) **_


	24. The Lucky One

_**Author's Note- Hi, guys! I am hopefully going to start cranking out these updates more regularly now that the most technically difficult chapter is out of the way. Thank you all for not absolutely murdering me for what happened last week. Trust me when I say that that chapter was just as hard, if not harder for me to write than it was for you to read because I love Lexie (and Slexie) SO MUCH.**_

_**I hope you enjoy this next chapter! It will start to get a little bit into the plane crash lawsuit storyline and give you an update on Meredith and Derek's mental state. It is told entirely from Meredith's POV.**_

_**Oh, and as always… I do not own Grey's Anatomy. If I did, things would be going a lot differently in the current show. **_

Whenever Meredith was at home, the only place that she wanted to be was at the hospital. Regardless of the trauma she had sustained there, the hospital was where Meredith felt most herself. It was familiar. Comforting. To put it simply, when Meredith was at Seattle Grace, she knew that she was safe. The medical center was her sanctuary.

Ever since an EEG machine showed minimal activity in Lexie's brain, though, the last place on earth that Meredith desired to go was Seattle Grace. She did not want to be around Thatcher or Molly who were constant, blubbering messes. She had no wish to face the hundreds of pairs of eyes that followed her at all times. Most importantly, Meredith did not want to have anything to do with Dr. Katherine Wyatt of psychiatry and Meredith swore to herself that after today, she was going to stay away from the cursed hospital as long as possible.

Visiting Seattle Grace today, however, was mandatory. Derek had two appointments, one with Dr. Schacter and another with Dr. Rehmani, a psychiatrist. Meredith needed to talk with Owen about getting her job back once she was fully recovered from the plane crash and hopefully, she would also get to see Cristina.

In the morning, after Meredith had showered, gotten Zola up, and fed her daughter breakfast, Alex arrived. He had been at the hospital all night and in that time, likely heard about Lexie's condition but to his everlasting credit, did not mention anything about his ex-girlfriend. He helped load Zola into her carseat and playfully asked Derek when he was going to be able to drive again.

"I'm probably closer to driving than Derek," Meredith said. "I'll talk to Dr. Wyatt today and see if I can get cleared."

"Yeah, I still have to get a new license and everything," Derek said. "And God knows what kind of drugs Rehmani is going to put me on…"

Meredith turned around in her seat; Derek and Zola were perched in the back, together. "You aren't really having too much anxiety or anything, are you? I mean, you said you don't remember most of the plane crash."

"I know, but I know that it happened and that's… enough by itself," Derek said.

"Yeah, Rehmani will probably put you on something," Alex agreed. "Wyatt is usually more conservative when it comes to scripts and even she gave Mer some nice stuff. What was it, Trazodone? Clonazepam?"

"Um, yeah… but that was mostly just to hold me over until Derek got discharged," Meredith said and prayed that no one cited this conversation to Wyatt herself.

Derek's therapy appointment was first so upon arrival at Seattle Grace, once Zola had been deposited at daycare, everyone headed up to the fifth floor. Derek stopped at Rehmani's office. Meredith continued down the hall and knocked on the door outside of Wyatt's quarters.

Part of Meredith hoped that her shrink was meeting with another patient, but there was no such luck. Wyatt immediately opened her door. "Meredith! What a surprise… I was wondering where you were last week."

"Yeah, I'm sorry but my husband got discharged and we were just really busy," Meredith said. "I know you're probably really busy, too, but Derek had an appointment with Rehmani and I just thought I would stop by and let you know what's going on…"

"No, please… come in. I actually had a last-minute cancellation so I have the next hour completely free. Your timing is impeccable."

_What a coincidence,_ Meredith thought to herself. She stepped inside Wyatt's office and took a seat on the familiar couch.

Wyatt grabbed the appropriate chart and positioned herself across from her patient, in a chair. "Alright, Meredith. So tell me how you've been feeling this week."

"Um… I've been okay. Derek's home now so I feel like that's really lessened my anxiety."

"Well, that's good to hear but from what I remember, you didn't seem to be experiencing that much anxiety in the first place," Wyatt said.

Meredith shrugged. "I guess not but I did miss my husband."

"I'm sure you did. Now, forgive me for jumping straight into this, Meredith but as an employee at this hospital, as much as I try to ignore the gossip, I do hear things. According to some of my colleagues, your sister, Lexie was supposed to wake up from her medically-induced coma yesterday, correct?"

_What in the world makes you think that I would want to talk about this?_ Meredith thought yet she did not voice her opinions aloud. She stared at the floor and said, "Yeah, but… that didn't happen."

"Can you tell me what did happen?" Wyatt asked.

"Yeah, we waited for a long time. And then Lexie's blood pressure went up and she had a seizure so they did a CT. It turned out that she was having a stroke… it was an intracerebral hemorrhage. Dr. Nelson stopped the bleed and everything went well but… but there's minimal activity in Lexie's brain."

Wyatt nodded slowly. "How does that make you feel?"

_I don't know,_ Meredith thought. _That's the truth… I don't even have a clue in hell how I feel about anything._

"I mean, obviously I'm worried," Meredith said. "Lexie's my sister but she's survived a lot already. She's strong. I'm not giving up hope. Minimal brain activity is better than nothing."

"That's true," Wyatt said but she was smirking.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm just not used to Meredith Grey being an optimist."

Meredith pushed a smile onto her face and laughed. "I guess that's the effect that you've had on me! You and Derek… he levels out my tendency to be… I don't know, dark and twisty."

"How is Derek doing through all of this? He was injured worse; I'm sure he's struggling," Wyatt said.

"Actually, he doesn't really seem to be. He was hurt worse but because of that, he was really out of it most of the time in the woods so he doesn't remember that much from the plane crash itself. And his injuries are getting better. He's going to have one or two more surgeries with Schacter and… oh, did I tell you? We emailed Harvard last night. We're officially staying in Seattle."

Wyatt raised her eyebrows, clearly taken aback by Meredith's sudden burst of information. "Really? That's interesting. What played into that decision?"

"I mean, to be honest, I've wanted to stay in Seattle this whole time," Meredith confessed. "My friends and family are all here and I know Brigham is a great program but… I don't know; I feel like I owe something to Richard and Bailey and the other surgeons who helped train me. I understand why Derek wanted to go to Boston, too, but after everything that happened… I think he understands my point. We just decided that now isn't the right time to pick up and run across the country. Maybe we'll move after my fellowship is over or something."

"Well, I have to say that I applaud you when it comes to that," Wyatt smiled. "I know that you have endured some hard times here in Seattle but you aren't going to fix anything by running away from those problems, figuratively or literally. I'm glad to hear that you'll be sticking around here with us."

Meredith nodded proudly, as if that was the reason she had opted to stay in Seattle… to face her problems and be mentally healthy. "Exactly. I know that's what Cristina wants to do… she said she's getting away from Seattle Grace Mercy Death and never looking back but that's just stupid. This place has given us so much."

"Seattle Grace Mercy Death… I have to say, I like that one," Wyatt chuckled. "Is that a reference to the shooting?"

"The shooting, the bomb threat, the plane crash… our friend, George got hit by a bus and died. I almost drowned intern year. There's been a lot of crap."

"You've been through more trauma in your 34 years than most people endure in their lifetime," Wyatt acknowledged. "Looking back on everything that's happened to you… how does that make you feel?"

Meredith paused, and pretended to consider things deeply. "I mean… lucky, to be honest."

"Lucky? How so?"

"I don't know, I mean… yes, I've been through a lot and it definitely hasn't been easy but I've survived," Meredith said. "I would much rather go through five traumatic events and come out the other side alive then go through one crisis and ultimately lose my life. That's what happened to a lot of people in the shooting. They never even had the opportunity to heal from their trauma because they were dead. I'm here. My husband is not a widower. My daughter still has both of her parents. I think I'm… incredibly lucky."

There was another intermission. Wyatt wrote down something in her legal pad and then looked up at her patient and tilted her head to one side, sadly. "That's an interesting perspective."

"Thank you," Meredith grinned.

"No, I didn't say that it was a good perspective or a healthy one. I said that it was interesting," Wyatt corrected her. "And to be honest, Meredith… I've tried to weasel around whatever coping mechanism you're using but everything you have told me thus far in your two sessions has been a load of crap."

Meredith's grin vanished. "I… excuse me?!"

"This performance you're putting on… the one where you're pretending to be unfazed by a plane crash that very nearly killed you and your loved ones… it's crap. It's not convincing, especially not to me, and truthfully, it's a little insulting that you even believed that I would fall for it."

"I am not putting on any damn performance," Meredith said, her chest heaving with anxiety and anger. "And who the hell are you to sit here and judge me?! You don't know what I've been through. You weren't there. Isn't it possible that after a bomb threat and a drowning and a bus crash and a shooting, that a plane crash where no one died just didn't faze me that much?! We survived! I'm grateful!"

Wyatt pursed her lips. "No one died? I thought your sister, Lexie was virtually braindead in the ICU."

"No, Lexie is going to be fine! I already told you that I'm not giving up hope," Meredith said.

"Okay, well if it's not about Lexie then what are you feeling, Meredith?!" Wyatt snapped. "Because trust me, whether you want to believe it or not, you are feeling something. You survived a plane crash. You watched your loved ones suffer and almost die. You have emotions about this and I mean something other than feeling grateful."

Meredith shook her head and stood up. "I'm done here. You're supposed to be my therapist. You're supposed to believe me and instead, you're just yelling at me. I want a new shrink."

"No, you want to pretend like this never happened, Meredith and that's fine, but sooner or later, these emotions that you're keeping inside are going to catch up with you. You're going to get hurt, seriously."

"No, I'm not. I'm not suicidal or homicidal or anything like that," Meredith said. "Now, I'm leaving, unless you wanted to threaten me some more."

Meredith had already turned around, prepared to pace out of the psychiatrist's office when Wyatt said it: "No, I really don't see how I'm threatening you but if you don't mind, I would like to talk about the scripts for Trazodone and Clonazepam that were processed in the hospital pharmacy for you last week."

Meredith froze. She had not planned for this. She should have come up with some excuses but her mind had been preoccupied and now, Meredith was biting her lip, demanding her brain to think fast. "I… I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think you do," Wyatt said. "Or, if you need help, we could page Dr. April Kepner up here and see if she has a better recollection."

"I didn't do anything illegal," Meredith argued. "April's a doctor; she's allowed to write scripts. So what if she… she noticed I was feeling a little anxious without Derek?"

"April is not _your_ doctor," Wyatt said. "Please, Meredith; I don't really have to explain this to you, do I? There are problems all over the country, all over the world with doctors writing prescriptions for one another. It's why so many physicians today are becoming addicted to opioids and benzodiazepines."

Her arms crossed in front of her, Meredith sighed. "Okay, fine. What do you want me to say? That I did something wrong? Maybe it's wrong, morally or ethically, but it's not illegal. You're sworn by HIPAA to keep my personal information private. What are you going to do?"

"Well, my preference would be for you to talk to me about all this. If you felt the need for clonazepam in the first place, you're obviously feeling more anxiety than you originally let on. Talk to me and tell me about what you're feeling. If you can't do that, though, Meredith… I don't know. I'm not going to put either you or April Kepner at risk by reporting your actions. I may just have to make a phone call or two and keep you here for a few days if I believe you are a harm to yourself."

"I told you, I'm not suicidal," Meredith insisted. "Why are you so against psych meds anyway? You're a psychiatrist!"

"Yes, I am well aware of that fact and I am not opposed to psych meds when they are taken responsibly," Wyatt explained. "What I am opposed to is… is the idea of someone suppressing their anxiety and trauma with medication and not taking any steps to heal from it."

"And what makes you think I'm doing that?"

Wyatt stared at her client in just the way that made Meredith cower. "Again, Meredith… please. Do I really have to explain? You're telling me that you have no anxiety. You're cheerful and optimistic when your sister had a stroke last night. None of that is natural."

"Maybe it is natural for me," Meredith said but Wyatt did not budge. "Okay, fine… you don't want me to get my clonazepam from April Kepner anymore. You won't give me anything. You don't believe what I'm telling you. What are my options here?"

"I will give you a small amount of clonazepam… just enough for you to taper yourself off of the medication without risking your own health. After that, though… if you want to be a surgeon again and take that fellowship here at Seattle Grace, you are going to have to start talking."

It was ridiculous and unprofessional. Wyatt was flat-out abusing her power and Meredith was not going to tolerate it any longer. "Yeah, last I checked, you're not the Chief of Surgery. That's not your decision to make."

She did not wait for her therapist to answer. Meredith spun around, marched out of Wyatt's office, and then ran down the hall to the inpatient ward. She stopped at the front desk.

"Excuse me… um, I'm not sure when visiting hours are but I'm a doctor here. My name is Dr. Meredith Grey and I believe that my friend was recently transferred up here. Is there any way I could see her?"

Apparently the plane crash sympathy was still in effect. The tech working the front desk, Jessie according to her nametag, smiled sweetly. "Of course, Dr. Grey! What is your friend's name?"

"Her name is Cristina Yang… Dr. Cristina Yang," Meredith said and Jessie flipped through the pages of a big binder and then got on the phone and called back to several psychiatric units.

Several minutes later, Jessie hung-up and faced Meredith. "I'm sorry but there is not currently a patient by that name on our census."

"Are you sure?" Meredith asked. "Because I'm almost positive she was transferred here yesterday. Cristina is spelt differently than most people think; it's C-R-I-S-T-I-N-A."

"Yes, I know who you're talking about, Dr. Grey and Dr. Yang is not a psychiatric patient at this time. I'm sorry but I don't have anymore information," Jessie said.

It was beyond confusing. Meredith thanked Jessie for her time and then trudged back down the hallway to the outpatient offices. Derek was still in his session with Rehmani so in the meantime, Meredith went into a bathroom, scrolled on her phone, and swallowed her last remaining clonazepam to calm her nerves. She had no idea how she was going to get cleared for surgery. Wyatt was out to get her and Meredith could not speak about what happened in the woods. If she did… she would be a complete and utter mess. She would not feel better. Meredith would have a meltdown if she thought about those memories and that would hurt Derek's recovery.

Approximately fifteen minutes passed with Meredith hiding in the bathroom and then she received a text from Derek that read: _I'm finished with Rehmani. I'll be waiting outside whenever you're finished with Wyatt._

Quickly, Meredith touched up her make-up in the mirror and then walked outside, upbeat and cheerful. "Hey, sorry! I finished early with Wyatt because she had another patient coming in and I went down to see Cristina but she… hey, what's wrong?"

The expression on Derek's face halted Meredith mid-sentence. It was one that she had not seen since the aftermath of the shooting, two years ago. Derek was defeated, emotional, and the glazed look in his piercing blue eyes suggested that he was trying not to cry.

"Nothing, I'm fine," Derek choked out.

"Um… no, you're not. Come on, you hate it when I say _I'm fine_ all the time. What's going on?" Meredith pressed. She sat down on the small bench next to her husband and grasped his good hand in her own.

Derek swallowed hard. "I… I don't know. That was my first real time in therapy… I mean, I went after the shooting but that was a joke and… it was just… tough."

Still holding Derek tightly, Meredith used her other hand to reach up and stroke his hair, softly. "I know… I know it can be brutal. I'm sorry, I… what can I do?"

"N-Nothing, I… I'm fine," Derek repeated but now tears were spilling over his lashes, cascading down his cheeks.

"Oh, baby," Meredith sighed; she let Derek lean his head onto her shoulder where he quivered with silent sobs. They were not usually the type of couple that called each other pet names like _sweetie, honey, _or _baby_ but this was an exception, and Meredith had no idea what to do as she sat there with McDreamy crying on her shirt.

What did Derek do when Meredith was the one in tears? Hold her? Meredith was doing that already. She adjusted herself slightly, though, and wrapped her arms around Derek tighter. She ran her fingers through his raven-colored locks and rubbed his back.

"Shh, you're okay… you're okay," Meredith said; that was what Derek always told her. "I'm right here…"

Five minutes later, Derek's breathing calmed yet he kept his head where it was, pushed against Meredith's shoulder. He was probably embarrassed. Meredith had only seen Derek cry a couple times and it was all in a span of a few weeks, right after the shooting. It was when the nightmares and other PTSD symptoms were at their worst.

"Are you okay?" Meredith whispered, continuing to stroke her husband's back.

Derek nodded shortly yet did not lift his head.

"Do you want to talk about it? I mean, I know you just did with Rehmani but do you want to talk about it with me?"

Derek shook his head and sniffled. "N-Not… right now. M-Maybe… maybe later."

"Okay," Meredith said. "I have some tissues in my purse if you want to sit up…"

Gradually, Derek raised his head although he did keep his face down and turned towards the wall so no one passing by would glimpse his red eyes or wet cheeks. Meredith tore through her purse hastily for her packet of tissues and then handed them to Derek who wiped his face and blew his nose.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I know this… this isn't fair, not when you're g-going through everything with… w-with Lexie…"

"Don't you dare apologize. You're fine. Everything is fine. I'm right here, okay?" Meredith lifted Derek's chip up, gently, and leaned forwards to kiss his lips. They tasted salty from the tears.

"T-That makes it all better."

"I know. That always makes it better for me, too," Meredith said. She stood up and then helped Derek up as well. "I think we both need a break, mentally and emotionally. Do you want to go grab some lunch and then see if we can find Owen?"

"What about Cristina? Isn't she up here somewhere?"

"I thought so, but when my session with Wyatt got out early, I went over there and they said she wasn't a patient. Maybe Owen talked them out of the transfer."

"Okay, so… lunch and then Owen? P-Personally, I… I'm not very hungry," Derek said.

Meredith was not hungry either; she had not been hungry for weeks but she was better at dishing out advice than she was at following that advice herself. "I know, but you need to try and eat something. Come on, we'll… we'll walk across the street and go to one of the restaurants over there. Trust me, you don't want to go anywhere near that cafeteria."

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A few doors down from the Emerald City Bar, a Panera Bread had recently opened. The popular restaurant was not entirely healthy, but they did have simple, nutritious foods that gave off a comforting vibe so that was where Meredith and Derek headed after finishing up on the psychiatric floor.

"Go ahead and sit down; I'll order our food and bring it to you," Meredith said when they arrived. "Is there anything in particular that sounds good?"

Derek shook his head yet did as he was told and found a small table at which to sit. Meredith, meanwhile, ordered a fancy salad with chicken for herself and a bowl of broccoli cheddar soup for Derek. One of the Panera employees recognized Meredith from the news and volunteered to bring their food to the table so she quietly accepted the offer and joined Derek, two cups of ice water in her hands.

"Here's some water… I got you broccoli cheddar soup; I hope that's okay."

"That's fine," Derek said and took a sip of his drink. "I really am sorry for… before. I don't know what happened."

"I told you… I don't want to hear any apologies. You don't have to know what happened. Therapy just does that to you sometimes."

"Did that happen to you, too, with Wyatt?"

Meredith shrugged, staring at the table. "Not so much this time but it has in the past. Remember when I was in therapy during my second year?"

"When you got all whole and healed?"

"Yeah… I had some serious breakdowns."

"About what?"

"About… you," Meredith admitted and she felt herself blush. "And about my mom… about how she slit her wrists with a scalpel on the kitchen floor and told me not to call 911 as she bled to death."

Derek's face had gone pale. "...What?"

"Oh, did I never tell you about that?" Meredith said, nonchalantly. "Yeah, it was after Richard decided to stay with Adele. It was a cry for attention more than anything else; I realized that during therapy. If she really wanted to kill herself, all she would have had to do is cut her carotid. But yeah… she told me not to call 911 and slit her wrists. I watched her bleed until she passed out and then called an ambulance."

"Oh my God," Derek said. "How old were you?"

"I had just turned five."

"And… and you don't feel… like that at all, right?" Derek clarified; he looked quite uncomfortable.

It was an awkward conversation, especially following the topics discussed with Wyatt. Meredith smirked. "I… no, I'm not suicidal if that's what you're asking."

"Not like you were during your intern year?"

"I wasn't suicidal then either," Meredith said, unsure whether or not she was fibbing. She had not gone into Elliott Bay on purpose but she had stopped fighting once she was in the water.

One way or another, she changed the subject. "What about you? You're not suicidal, right?"

"Really, Meredith?"

"I mean, I wouldn't expect it but we were in a plane crash and you just sobbed onto my shoulder on the psych floor. I don't know what to think anymore."

"Fair point, but I'm not suicidal," Derek promised. "And actually… everything I talked about with Dr. Rehmani… it didn't really have to do with the plane crash."

Their confessions were briefly halted; the Panera employee had arrived with their food. Meredith thanked the young woman, took a big bite of her salad to encourage Derek to eat, and then looked up again, curious. "Really? Then what did you talk about?"

"Other stuff," Derek said and ate a spoonful of his soup. "The shooting… my dad…"

It was like someone had smashed a brick through Meredith's chest. She had completely forgotten about Derek's father. It was wrong and she knew that but there had been a lot of other trauma and Derek never appeared that upset about it. Sure, he had nightmares after the shooting. But that was understandable. Derek had been shot, himself. Meredith had no idea that his father's murder still affected Derek so much and hearing the pain in his voice was unbearable.

She tried to speak, to comfort him, yet all that came out was, "Oh…"

"Yeah…"

"That's why you were crying?"

"Not exactly… I don't know; maybe that was part of it."

Meredith wanted to ask more; she wanted to pry for information. Derek was being exceptionally quiet, though, and Meredith got the impression that he did not want to talk about it anymore.

"Okay, well… whenever you're ready, I'm here," Meredith said.

"Thank you," Derek replied; he smiled, sadly. "Let's talk about you, now. Tell me what you're feeling."

"I'm feeling… hungry," Meredith lied and stuffed another huge bite of salad in her mouth. "You need to eat, too."

"I'm eating," Derek said; he swallowed an additional spoonful of soup.

"Okay, well… I'll keep talking as long as you keep eating," Meredith said.

"Deal."

"Okay, um… well, Dr. Wyatt and I talked about Lexie, some… I told her the truth, that I'm scared but that I know Lexie is strong and she at least stands a chance. I told her that we were officially staying in Seattle, as long as Owen hires me back and that I don't think it's a good idea to run away from the trauma we've faced…"

Meredith's speech lasted approximately ten minutes and in that time span, Derek managed to consume half of his soup. It was good enough for now; the couple boxed up the rest of their food and then walked back over to Seattle Grace with forty-five minutes to spare before Derek's appointment with Schacter.

Locating Owen did not take long. Meredith and Derek found him right away, talking with Bailey in the hospital lobby.

"Hey, do you have a minute?" Meredith asked, interrupting their conversation.

"Well, excuse you, Dr. Grey," Bailey teased; Owen ignored her.

"Meredith… Derek… yes, of course. I was actually looking for the two of you; I wasn't sure if you were going to be up here today."

The trio of doctors filed into a neighboring conference room and sat down. Meredith dove right into her dilemma: "Okay, so… I know I told you before that we were moving to Boston, that I was taking the fellowship at Brigham. With everything that happened, though… I don't think Derek or I were really hoping to move across the country right now. I know this is really late notice but is there any way you would be willing to hire me as a general surgery fellow?"

Any doubt that had previously filled Meredith's mind instantly washed away at the expression on Owen's face. "Hold on… you're being serious? You want to stay in Seattle?"

"We… actually already contacted Harvard last night. We know that we should have spoken to you about this first but yesterday was… tough, as you know," Derek said.

"So you're willing to stay on as my Chief of Neurosurgery, too?" Owen's face was growing considerably brighter.

"Well, as long as everything goes okay with my hand and its recovery, then yes, I would be thrilled to resume my post as Chief of Neurosurgery," Derek said. "But we still have a ways to go before that… if nothing else, I would be willing to lecture, maybe practice some neurology."

"And I mean, we wouldn't be able to start right away… it hasn't even been a month since the crash," Meredith added.

It did not appear that Owen cared. "Absolutely… yes, you're hired… both of you. Don't worry about a start date. Whenever you're ready is fine with me."

"Thank you so much, Dr. Hunt. Truly, I… I appreciate your confidence in me."

"Well, you have proven yourself to be an extremely talented young surgeon, Meredith and we already know you are capable of overcoming trauma. I have no doubt that you will be a fantastic addition to our fellowship program."

"And I'll be around to babysit, if nothing else," Derek smiled.

"Your skills are invaluable, Derek," Owen said. "Whether you are operating, teaching, consulting, lecturing… you are always welcome at Seattle Grace. I hope you know that."

"Thanks, Rambo."

Owen sighed. "Okay, well… both of you can stop by HR anytime within the next week. They'll register you as employees and make you some new badges. In the meantime, it would be great if you could come with me up to the ICU so we can talk things over."

"Talk things over? About what, Lexie?" Meredith grimaced.

"No, I just need to speak with all of the plane crash survivors and with Arizona still in the ICU, this is the only method I could think of… Meredith, your father will stand in for Lexie and I'll represent Cristina."

"Yeah, where is Cristina?" Meredith continued. "You said you were committing her to psych. I went up to psych this morning to try and visit her and she wasn't there."

"Yes, um… that's part of what we needed to discuss," Owen said. "We actually gave Cristina an ultimatum… either start communicating verbally or go to psych. She decided to go home so… that's where she is right now."

It took a few seconds for Owen's words to register and when they did, Meredith's jaw dropped. "Hold on… Cristina got discharged?! And you left her alone by herself at home?!"

"We had… a long talk last night. I don't believe that Cristina is a danger to herself," Owen said.

"And how do you know that?" Meredith was shaking her head out of pure disbelief. "I don't think you understand just how dark and twisty Cristina and I can go."

"I second that. You need to go home right now and check on her or else Mer and I will," Derek told his boss.

"I'll go home after we meet with the other plane crash survivors," Owen said.

This did not seem like a compromise to Meredith. Derek agreed, though, and stood up to follow Owen. On the way up to the ICU, Meredith called Cristina repeatedly, yet every time, the latter's line rolled to voicemail.

"Cristina, it's me," Meredith said to the answering machine. "I just talked with Owen. Are you okay? Please call me back or else Derek and I are coming over."

Meredith was still messing around with her phone when the group rounded a corner into the ICU and almost ran directly into Thatcher and Molly.

"Meredith!" Molly exclaimed. "W-Where have you been?"

"Oh, um… I had an appointment with my therapist this morning and then…"

"And then you went on a date with your husband?" Thatcher interrupted and Meredith froze.

"Excuse me?"

"I can see the bag in your hand, you know," Thatcher said; he pointed to the leftover food from Panera that Meredith was carrying. "Your sister is up here in the ICU… she's practically braindead… and you're off, going on dates with your husband? Eating as if everything is normal?"

Derek stepped forward, which was good because Meredith had temporarily forgotten how to speak. "Excuse me, but Meredith took me to lunch because she knew I hadn't been eating well lately… not that it's any of your business."

"Yeah, come on, Dad. Leave Meredith and Derek alone," Molly said and tugged on Thatcher's arm.

Meredith caught up with her sister as soon as possible. "Is he drunk?"

"No!" Molly gasped, as if Meredith had insulted her. "No, Meredith… he's been sober for three years now. He's made his amends."

_I know, but that doesn't mean he's cured, _Meredith thought to herself. _At one point, Richard had been sober for almost twenty years and he relapsed._

"Are you okay?" Derek asked his wife.

"I'm fine," Meredith said and rolled her eyes. "You didn't have to say anything."

"I know but I wanted to…"

A short while later, they arrived at Arizona's room and everyone piled inside. It was the first time that Meredith had seen Arizona in several weeks now. She was gaining weight and looked healthier, but based on Arizona's facial expression, she was still feeling depressed. Callie and Mark were sitting on either side of her, and there were red rims around Mark's eyes.

"Okay, do we have everybody?" Owen asked as the group settled in.

"Not everybody… my daughter was supposed to be here and she isn't here. She's down the hall, unconscious… might not ever wake-up," Thatcher moaned.

"I… of course, I'm sorry, Mr. Grey," Owen apologized. "What I meant to say is… do we have someone representing each victim of the plane crash?"

"Yes, we're representing Lexie," Molly said.

"And I know Arizona's here but… she might have a hard time remembering everything so I'm here on behalf of her, too," Callie added.

"Perfect, and I'm representing Cristina so we're good to go," Owen said. "This shouldn't take too long, but first and foremost, I did just want to express my sympathies in person for what happened to each and every one of you."

"It wasn't your fault, Rambo," Mark said.

"I know, but I am the Chief of Surgery and part of me will always feel responsible for my people. It was not right or fair what happened and let me assure you that everyone here at Seattle Grace is going to do our best to ensure you receive some sort of justice. It is not, of course, up to us to make that final decision but I highly suggest you pursue legal action against Bayview Aeronautics, especially considering the recent… setback," Owen explained and glanced in the direction of Thatcher and Molly.

The plane crash victims were silent for a moment and then Meredith looked around at everyone. "Well, we're going to sue, aren't we? I thought that's kind of been decided for a while."

"Of course we're going to sue!" Thatcher said, jumping to his feet. "Someone is responsible for this, and we can't let them get away with it! You're lucky I was too drunk to sue this hospital for the death of my wife!"

"That wasn't the hospital's fault, Dad," Meredith sighed, hating more than ever that she had to keep that promise to Lexie and call Thatcher her father. "I showed Lexie Susan's chart and I know she showed you. It was a series of freak accidents."

Owen interjected. "Anyway… back to business, people. The decision to pursue legal action has to be unanimous either way; we all need to be on the same page. Arizona?"

"We vote yes. We've already talked," Callie said.

"Alright, and Mark?"

"I mean… yeah, I think someone needs to be held accountable. Arizona's leg is screwed up, Derek and Meredith almost died… Lexie might still die. It's not something that can just be swept aside."

"I'm confident that Cristina feels the same way. Derek?"

"Yes, absolutely. Money might not change what happened but an investigation could prevent the same thing from happening again."

Owen nodded. "Alright, then… it's settled. The first step will be a meeting with a representative from Bayview Aeronautics. I will put you in touch with a physician's representative as well; we'll discuss this in a civilized manner. Like I said, we will bring this to a grand jury if needed but I'm sure Bayview would appreciate the opportunity to reimburse you privately via settlement."

"Sounds good, Chief," Mark said.

"Are we finished? Are you going to go check on Cristina now?" Meredith inquired.

"Yes, I… I'm going home now and just so everyone knows, I'm probably not going to be around too much in the next few weeks. My primary reason for coming in today, other than this meeting, was to take an official leave of absence. My wife is recovering from this accident, physically and mentally, and she needs her husband. Dr. Webber will act as Chief in the meantime," Owen said.

Meredith opened her mouth to ask more; she wondered why Owen had felt comfortable leaving Cristina alone if he was taking a leave of absence to care for her… but before she got that chance, Owen fled from Arizona's room.

Feeling overwhelmed and exhausted from her lack of sleep, Meredith turned towards Derek. "Okay, um… do you want to head over to Schacter's now?"

Derek glanced at his watch as they followed Owen out of the ICU. "We still have fifteen minutes. Let's go down to the pharmacy. I have to drop off a prescription from Rehmani so it'll be ready by the time that we're done."

"What did Rehmani give you?" Meredith asked before she could resist.

"Doxepin… it's good for anxiety and depression but it will help me sleep, too."

"Yeah, I know what Doxepin is," Meredith said and Derek chuckled.

"Right, I forgot who I was talking to… are you good on your Trazodone and Clonazepam?"

Meredith paused. She did not want to lie to Derek, but then again, she would be lying no matter which route she took. "Well, I… I guess. Wyatt said that the Clonazepam was just to hold me over until you got discharged."

"Didn't she give you a refill today, considering what happened with Lexie?"

"I… well… yes, but it was just a taper. I guess I'll go and get that filled while we're at the pharmacy, too."

Derek stopped walking, as if Meredith had confessed some shocking revelation. "I… well, I suppose that's better than nothing but… it hasn't even been a month since the plane crashed and your sister had a stroke yesterday. Wyatt should understand that your anxiety isn't gone just because I'm home."

"I… I know, but…"

"Do you want me to go up and talk with her?" Derek offered. "I can be quite convincing when needed, you know."

"Y-Yes, I know," Meredith said and hesitated. She was frantic, racking her brains for another excuse.

"Meredith," Derek said, softly. "Do you want to know what I talked about with Rehmani in therapy this morning? Besides the shooting and my dad, I mean?"

"Only if you're comfortable with telling me…"

"I… I'm not going to go into details about the shooting and my dad and everything yet. But basically, what I told Rehmani is that I'm the lucky one. I don't remember most of what happened in the woods. I feel anxious sometimes, but I don't have flashbacks like you because I don't have much to flash back to… and don't get me wrong, I love Lexie and I'm very worried about her but the people that mattered most to me on that plane… you and Mark… you're both okay.

"You remember it all. You're having flashbacks and you have loved ones still in crisis. Lexie's in a coma and Cristina's not herself and I know you're dealing with a lot taking care of me. It hurts me to know that you're in so much pain so please, let me see what I can do to help take some of that away."

Meredith was swallowing back tears, for so many reasons. She knew that Derek confronting Wyatt about clonazepam would create an awful scenario, but what was she supposed to say to a speech like that?

Slowly, Meredith leaned forward and rested her head against her husband's shoulder. She felt Derek's arm slip around her back and he murmured her name.

"I love you so much. Everything I'm dealing with… it's worth it for you," Meredith whispered and squeezed her eyes shut. "And now that you're home… I… I'm getting better. I am… I'm fine."

Derek withdrew from the embrace and tilted his head slightly to the left. "You're fine? Really fine? Or _fine_ like you were four years ago before therapy?"

"I'm fine… really fine," Meredith promised. "Please don't worry. It's not as bad as you think. You don't remember the plane crash so you're imagining the worst case scenario. Trust me, I… I've survived worse."

"I know you have," Derek smiled, a familiar twinkle in his eye.

"And you've survived worse, too," Meredith reminded her husband. She took his good hand, squeezed it confidently, and lead him in the direction of the pharmacy. "Come on… let's go drop off your script and get you to Schacter. Everything's going to be okay."

_**Thank you so much for reading! I know I don't have to do these disclaimers every week but just since Meredith had another therapy session, I want to remind everyone that I know Meredith is making some questionable decisions. Let's face it, our beloved heroine has not always had the most black and white sense when it comes to right and wrong. I do not encourage anyone to take Mer's advice when it comes to dealing with their stress or trauma but like I said before, trauma changes our brains. People make mistakes. Please stick with her. **_

_**Stay tuned for another chapter soon where we will get an update on Arizona's infection and Cristina who has apparently been discharged from the hospital! **_

_**PLEASE don't forget to review! Reviews mean so much to me and let me know that you are enjoying my writing. Thank you all so much for reading. You seriously mean so much to me. Xoxo, merderpedia :) **_


	25. Almost Human

_**Author's Note- Okay, so this is a relatively short update but I didn't really think it was right to combine this with the last chapter or the next one. This is just an update on Arizona and Cristina because I know I have been mostly focusing on Meredith, Derek, Mark, and Lexie. There are four "segments" of this chapter, divided with "MTB." The first part is from Arizona's POV, the second is Cristina's POV, the third is Arizona again and then Cristina last. Hopefully you guys aren't too confused lol. Enjoy! **_

Alex Karev was choosing to stick around Seattle until Arizona was out of the ICU and as much as she hated to admit it, this had been a pleasant surprise. Perhaps Arizona was not the sole reason; Karev had other friends that were recovering from the plane crash, too, such as Meredith and Cristina, but despite the way that Arizona had screamed at her former student, Karev was routinely checking in on her.

That was a nice gesture in a month that was otherwise, extremely depressing and miserable.

On Thursday, May 16th, thirty days had officially passed since their plane had fallen out of the sky. It seemed like much longer than that to Arizona, who had been unsuccessfully coping with indescribable pain ever since that day in April. She was out of the woods now, literally and figuratively but it was hard to say whether or not the hospital was better than being stranded in the middle of nowhere. The only real improvement was that there were not any bugs attempting to eat Arizona alive.

But Arizona was lonesome. Part of that was her own fault; she was not allowing many people to come visit her in the ICU. It was just Callie, Sofia, and sometimes Mark that were permitted to see her. Arizona's parents had gone home; they could not live in Seattle permanently and Arizona did not want her coworkers to witness her in this state. She would never be respected at Seattle Grace Hospital again. All anyone would be able to relate Arizona Robbins with was the poor, pitiful creature from the ICU.

As much as Arizona wished that was not the case, she knew that it was… no one had been able to look at Derek the same way after the shooting.

She had Callie, Sofia, and Mark, though, so that was something. And according to Owen, who had brought a bunch of people into Arizona's room earlier this week, there was going to be a major lawsuit regarding the plane crash. Arizona and the other victims could end up with some serious cash.

"I know you don't want to think about what happened anymore than necessary," Callie said when Arizona was initially reluctant to sue. "But that plane crashed for a reason and someone's responsible. No, it's not going to erase the memories but a million dollars wouldn't hurt, would it?"

So Arizona gave in, under the condition that Callie would be managing most of her paperwork. Arizona was already dealing with a broken femur and a raging infection that refused to subside; she did not want to take on the stress that came from a lawsuit, too.

Now, tomorrow, Arizona was going to have what would hopefully be her final surgery with Dr. Carlson, the best orthopedic surgeon at Seattle Grace, next to Callie. Once that was finished and Arizona started physical therapy, she would begin to put the stupid plane crash behind her. She would return to work, take back the pediatric department from Stark, and find a new, talented fellow to teach, someone better than Alex Karev.

In the meantime, Arizona was relaxing in her ICU room, dreaming about the day when she would stand next to an operating table again. It seemed so far away. That date was inching closer, though; Arizona had survived more than she ever thought possible and most of that was thanks to her perfect, sexy wife, Callie.

Callie, who was currently sitting next to Arizona, gabbing happily. "...I mean, he's made such amazing progress, physically. A month ago, I didn't know if either of you were still alive and now he's home, taking care of Sofia all by himself. I'm so proud of him."

"What about me? Are you proud of me?" Arizona teased.

"Oh, baby… you know I'm beyond proud of you but if you want me to say it again, I will," Callie smiled. "Arizona Noelle Robbins, you are the bravest person I know and I am so unbelievably proud of you."

Arizona giggled and leaned forward to kiss her wife, ignoring the constant pain in her femur. Soon, that would be gone.

Yet Callie pulled away, her face concerned. "Do you feel okay, baby? You're kind of warm."

"It's this infection. I'm convinced I'll never be cold again," Arizona said and threw aside one of her blankets. "Or maybe it's just my overall hotness."

It could not be anything too complicated; Callie was laughing and if there was reason to be concerned, Callie would not be capable of laughter. They kissed again and just then, the door to Arizona's room opened. The spawn of Satan himself, Alex Karev, peeked inside.

"Oh… sorry," he said when he saw the way that Arizona and Callie were kissing. "I just thought… well, I brought you a piece of Chunky-Stu's pizza. He's eating tonight, thanks to you… thanks to us."

Karev set the slice of Hawaiian pizza down on Arizona's bedside table. She glanced at it, but did not say anything.

"Anyway, since he's out of the woods, I'm out of here," Karev continued. "I'm going to Hopkins. I've really been busting my ass to make sure everything runs smoothly and now I'm… I'm done. So just… goodbye. I'm sorry this happened to you and I'm sorry it made you hate me."

Arizona pursed her lips. For the first time since the accident, she felt a bit of her anger subside. It was not her fault, but it was not really Karev's fault either… it was Hopkins, and he had worked hard to keep the pediatric surgical department under control this last month.

Arizona picked up the slice of Hawaiian pizza and held it back out to Karev. "I'm having surgery tomorrow."

"Your surgery's not till noon tomorrow; Carlson doesn't care if you eat now," Callie said.

"Well, I'm just gonna be an unbelievably good patient," Arizona said but she took the pizza back and handed it to her wife. "Here, you can have some of Chunky-Stu's pizza."

There was a slight smile on Arizona's face; she hoped that Karev would understand that as a truce because Arizona was not sure if she was a big enough person to forgive him out loud.

Suddenly, a sharp pain ripped through Arizona's chest. She was burning hot, lightheaded, and she tried to open her mouth to ask for help… all the air had been sucked out of Arizona's lungs…

Her eyes met Karev's, frightened and panicked, and then the world went black.

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Nearly one month had passed since the plane crash. That much, Cristina knew. She was starting to listen to what people had to say; she did not feel capable of responding, but Owen, Callie, and Meredith were keeping her updated on the world outside and Cristina was listening, whenever she heard them. She had an inclination that this was not 100 percent of the time.

But Cristina knew that almost a month had passed since the plane crash. She knew that Derek had been discharged from the hospital. Cristina was aware that Arizona's infection was improving, and that Meredith had begun therapy which, thus far, was not a success.

Above all, Cristina knew that the ICU nurses were getting sick of her. What used to be gossip had turned into full-fledged complaining. Cristina was a nutcase. She belonged in psych. Owen was advocating for her, saying that he was the Chief of Surgery and demanding that she be kept in the ICU, but that was a joke. Even Cristina knew that she was a behavioral health patient by now.

One day, late in the afternoon or early in the evening, Cristina heard the sliding door to her room open and close. She shut her eyes, anticipating more judgemental comments from the nurses. This time, though, Cristina was in luck… or at least, as fortunate as anyone could be inside a place like Seattle Grace Mercy Death. Owen had come to see her again and he was carrying a fresh bouquet of red roses.

"Hey… Cristina. Are you awake?" Owen's voice said; Cristina robotically turned her head in his direction. Owen smiled, thankful that she was responsive. "Hey! Guess what?"

Even if she did feel capable of talking, Cristina would not have answered. She hated guessing games.

Owen sat down and continued: "They're waking up Lexie… right now. Her brain swelling has gone down so they're waking her up to test her neurological function. Meredith's in there with her right now… Meredith and her dad, Lexie's dad, Thatcher… and Molly…"

That was good, Cristina guessed. As long as everything went according to plan, it sounded like all of the plane crash victims were going to survive… except for Jerry… Jerry had been eaten by wolves…

Eventually, Owen likely grew impatient, or maybe had had other patients to tend to, because he left. Cristina was alone again. She stared up at the ceiling, so exhausted, yet so tired of being in bed… she wondered if she was going to make it to her fellowship. That was what Cristina wanted, deep down, but she was trapped inside of Seattle Grace Mercy Death.

There was no saying whether or not Cristina would make it out alive…

It might have been five minutes, five hours, or five days later that Cristina snapped awake, angry beyond belief. She was sick of the judgemental nurses. She was sick of Seattle, as a whole. She heard someone tapping on her window; she looked up and realized that Krista, one of the worst ICU nurses was playfully knocking on the glass, gossiping with her friends about how Cristina was a hopeless case.

Cristina could not tolerate Krista's bullshit, not a moment longer. Her limbs free of restraints, Cristina lurched up into a sitting position, grabbed the vase of red roses that Owen had brought her, and hurled it at the window as hard as she possibly could.

There was a deafening, shattering noise. Krista screamed at the top of her lungs. Cristina lied back down and probably would have smiled if she were capable of that.

This time, only a few minutes passed before there was another visitor… or three visitors, actually. The door to Cristina's room opened and Owen, Krista, and one of the ICU physicians, Dr. Donner, rushed inside.

"I'm sorry, Hunt, but I'm out of options! She is a danger towards staff; she is a danger towards other patients and the ICU is supposed to be a safe place!" Donner hollered.

"I know! I… I know, it's under control," Owen said.

"It is not under control; she almost killed me!" Krista screeched.

"Yeah, look, Hunt… I'm sorry. I know she's your wife and I know you want to believe that she's coming back," Donner said. "But she's been catatonic for a month now. If it was any other patient, she would have been in psych a long time ago. You need to do what's best for her; you need to let her get the help she needs."

Cristina was unsure whether Owen agreed. The voices faded away and the next thing she knew, Owen was by her side again, alone. He was holding Cristina's hand, tears in his eyes.

"Cristina… Cristina, wake-up. Cristina, look at me… talk to me. I am begging you…"

There was such urgency in her husband's tone that Cristina automatically did as she was told. Well, she did not talk but she looked at him.

"There you go," Owen whispered. "Listen… Lexie didn't wake up like she was supposed to… there were complications. I… I know it's difficult but I'm just going to say it, okay? Lexie had a stroke. It was an intracerebral hemorrhage. Nelson fixed the bleed but… but it's not good. She has minimal brain activity. She might not ever wake up."

So much for Cristina's brief hope that all of the surgeons from the plane crash were going to survive… Cristina blinked. She felt like she was going to cry; she wanted to cry, yet her eyes would not formulate tears.

"Anyway… the Board is presenting me with an ultimatum. You're either going to have to get better fast, and… and go home with me, or else you're going to be committed to psych, against your will in the morning. They're gonna pump you full of antipsychotics and put you in group rooms with therapists and… and maybe that's what you need; I don't know. I just know that… if there's any chance that you might be able to do this without psych… Cristina, now is the time to say something. Do you understand me?"

Cristina understood what Owen was saying perfectly. It was not her neurological function that was damaged. Her brain had simply short-circuited from the trauma. What was she supposed to do now? Cristina wondered if she should accept the transfer to psych; it was a safe place, after all… or maybe she should go home with Owen and then get the hell out of Seattle as soon as the stars aligned.

Ultimately, Cristina was going to return to surgery. She knew that. It was not possible right now but this time, the trauma had not taken place in the operating room. This time, it was only surgery that was going to save Cristina from this nightmare and the sooner she was released from the hospital, the sooner she would be able to run away to the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota where there had never been a mass shooting, where their doctors were safe from plane crashes and bombs… where everything would be a distant memory.

She took a deep breath and then Cristina opened her mouth for the first time since being rescued from the forest. "I… I… I'll… go home."

Owen's jaw dropped; he clearly had not expected a response. "Really?! Cristina, you can hear me?! You understand?!"

"L-Lexie… had a… stroke. We're… g-going… home," Cristina repeated, slowly.

"Yeah… yeah, you have it exactly right. I'm so proud of you," Owen smiled. "Everything is going to be fine now, okay?! I promise… you're going to be fine. I love you so much."

Cristina knew it. She knew that Owen had cheated and that the plane had crashed and that nothing was ever going to be the same but beneath all of that, beneath the darkness and the trauma and confusion, Cristina knew that Owen loved her. And she reciprocated those feelings.

"I… I love you, too…"

**MTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTB**

For the first time since April 18th, when Arizona woke up, she was not in pain. She was drowsy, the universe was foggy, but her leg was not aching and she had gotten what felt like a full night of sleep. Half of Arizona thought that she was dreaming so even when she technically became conscious, she kept her eyes shut, fell back asleep, and waited for reality to smack her in the face.

And then she wokeup again. Arizona opened her eyes and realized that somehow, she was not dreaming. The pain that had accompanied her for the past month was gone. She must have had her surgery with Carlson.

Arizona tried to sit up, but her body was not quite ready for that yet; she collapsed backwards onto her pillow. She looked around in both directions, desperate for something, someone with news, and found her gorgeous wife, Calliope, sitting to her left with tears streaming down her cheeks.

"C-Callie…" Arizona moaned and rubbed her eyes. "W-What happened? Are… w-what's wrong?"

Initially, there was no answer. Callie was either too upset or too relieved to speak so all she did was scoot forward and take Arizona's hand in her own. Then, there was a sharp intake of air, and Callie's soothing voice: "It's okay. You're okay. Everything's fine. You just got out of surgery."

"M-My… my leg is… is fixed? It… it doesn't… hurt," Arizona said.

"Yeah, um… yeah, you're okay now. Everything is going to be fine," Callie promised and regardless of her confusion, Arizona knew that she was not getting the full story.

"W-What happened?" she pressed.

Callie sighed; the tears were threatening to flow again. "Listen, baby… it's… it's Thursday night. You weren't supposed to have your surgery until Friday but… but something happened. Um… you… you went septic."

_Septic… _it was a word that was only supposed to be used to describe those rare, unfortunate ICU patients. That word was never intended to be used in relation to Arizona.

"W-What…?"

"You went septic," Callie said. "And… and your internal organs were failing. It's okay; we fixed it… but we had to get rid of the infection first. You were going to die… so, um… I'm so sorry but we had to take your leg. I'm so sorry."

It was a joke. It had to be a prank; there was no other plausible explanation. Callie had promised. She had given Arizona her word, numerous times, that they would find a way to fix the infection without amputation. Plus, even if something impossible had happened, there was no way that Callie would inform Arizona of the tragedy like that… not as soon as she wokeup from surgery… not without consulting Carlson.

Arizona stared back at her wife for so long that Callie eventually stood up. "Arizona? Baby? Talk to me, baby…"

"Help me sit up," Arizona said.

"Okay, um… just… okay, just… prepare yourself, okay?" Callie begged and then she pressed the buttons on the side of Arizona's bed that scooted her into an upright position.

Arizona looked down and what she saw stole the breath out of her chest. Her left leg was completely gone. In its place, was a short stump, wrapped in gauze. It was not a joke.

Arizona was never going to skate again…

"Baby…" Callie said for a third time and Arizona snapped.

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!"

Callie flinched backwards in surprise. "Arizona… listen, you were septic…"

"I DON'T CARE!" Arizona screamed. "You should have paged Carlson! He knew what he was doing; he had a plan!"

"Yeah, and I helped him make that plan…"

"YOU PROMISED! YOU PROMISED ME THAT YOU WEREN'T GOING TO LET THEM TAKE MY LEG!"

"Yeah, I know but I kinda figured that all went to hell when you were literally going to die!" Callie yelled back. "Arizona, we saved your life!"

"I DON'T CARE! YOU SHOULD HAVE LET ME DIE! YOU SHOULD HAVE DONE ANYTHING ELSE, EXCEPT FOR WHAT YOU DID! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, GOD?!"

There were running footsteps in the hallway and two nurses burst into the room, neither of which Arizona recognized in her fury. One had blonde hair, though, and it was the blonde that asked, "Dr. Robbins, what's wrong?"

"MY WIFE CUT OFF MY LEG; THAT'S WHAT'S WRONG!" Arizona sobbed; there were tears streaming from her own eyes now. She turned to Callie. "GET OUT! GET OUT, GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"

"Whoa… calm down. You have to hear me out…"

"No… YOU HAVE TO GET OUT OF MY ROOM! RIGHT NOW, GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"

"Er… come on, Dr. Torres. Let's give Dr. Robbins some space," the blonde nurse said and grabbed Callie by the arm.

Callie was shaking her head, exasperated, as if she was the one that had woken up without one of her limbs. "Hey… no, she's my wife!"

"I know but your wife needs some space and we need to get her pulse down," Nurse Blondie said. "Come on, Dr. Torres. You can come back later."

"NO, SHE CAN'T! SHE CAN'T COME BACK LATER! GET HER THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!"

Finally, Nurse Blondie and her partner managed to drag Callie out of the room but she was quickly replaced by three others… an unknown doctor and two nurses. The doctor was shouting orders that Arizona could not totally understand but she knew that the words _push Alprazolam _were included.

Arizona attempted to continue screaming. She tried to fight the doctor and anyone else who had been in on Callie's awful idea of a plan yet her surge of energy had left as soon as it had come… the pain, the loss, the shock slipped away and Arizona tumbled into a world where she had two legs, where she went running on her days off, where she skated down the hallways of Seattle Grace… where Karev had never accepted a fellowship at Hopkins… where the plane had never crashed…

**MTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTB**

Cristina spent one more hour in the ICU. She did not reply to any of the nurses or doctors who tried communicating with her. That was stretching things. She did get out of bed to use the bathroom when asked and drank a cup of water on her own. According to the charge nurse, this was a massive improvement.

And then, at approximately 9:00 at night, Owen showed up with a new iPhone for Cristina and a simple outfit which consisted of black leggings, a blue t-shirt, and a matching, black set of underwear. He helped his wife dress herself and slipped her feet into comfortable, running shoes and before Cristina knew it, she was free.

She was perched in the front passenger seat of Owen's truck, being transported away from Seattle Grace Mercy Death. Cristina was never coming back.

"I'm going to cook a great dinner for you when we get home," Owen said. "When's the last time you ate anything?"

"Um…" Cristina did not respond. She knew that it had been before the plane crash. Cristina had been so hungry the entire time they were in the woods but once she was rescued, her appetite had vanished. Throughout her month-long hospitalization, Cristina was given nutrients intravenously.

"Well, it doesn't matter now. You're home with me," Owen said. "What do you feel like eating? You can pick anything in the world; if I don't know how to make it, then we'll order out… I'll send an intern to go pick it up and deliver…"

Cristina was still not particularly hungry so she did not engage in any conversation with Owen for the rest of the ride home and she did not speak until they were safe in their living room, away from society which was far too loud and anxiety-inducing.

Owen was in the kitchen, throwing together a meal of pasta and chicken when Cristina got up and hobbled after him, awkwardly. "I'm… I'm… dirty."

"They washed you in the ICU. They gave you bed baths," Owen said and paused from his cooking. "But yeah… I'm sure it would feel great to have a real shower, wouldn't it?"

"I'm… dirty," Cristina said.

"Okay… how about we eat first? You need to get some real food in your system… then I'll help you take a shower or a bath afterwards," Owen suggested.

Cristina was not hungry. Cristina was dirty… she knew that Owen's proposal made sense, though, so she nodded…

Somehow, Cristina did manage to eat more than she originally thought herself capable. The pasta that Owen had made was good and she slurped up the noodles with a bit of help from her husband. It was almost like Cristina had forgotten what proper food tasted like…

When they were finished, Owen gathered up their plates, took them to the sink, and then sat down next to Cristina. "Okay, listen… we're gonna go in the bathroom in a minute and… and wash you. But first, we need to talk about something else…"

"L-Lexie?" Cristina guessed.

"No… well, I guess Lexie is part of it," Owen said. "Tomorrow, I'm going to have to go up to the hospital… just for a little while. I've talked with some reps and I need to talk with everyone else who was involved in the plane crash and see what the plan is… do you understand?"

Cristina was following; she was not mentally-challenged. "We're… suing the… plane people?"

"As long as everyone agrees to it, yes… that's what I would suggest, if I were in your position. That plane crashed and we don't know why but we can find out. And I know I don't know everything that happened out there either but I know it was bad and I know someone should take the fall for it."

Owen was right about that… the time that Cristina had spent in the woods with her friends had not been a fun camping trip. "Yeah…"

"If you don't want to go, I understand; that's fine. I'll represent you," Owen continued. "But you were on the plane… you'll need to cast a vote so I need you to tell me what you want to do."

"I don't know," Cristina said. "I mean… I'm fine with doing whatever everyone else wants to do."

"I… okay," Owen sighed. "Okay, then I'm going to vote for the lawsuit. Like I said, I… I don't know what happened out there but I know it was bad and I believe you should get some sort of justice. Is that okay?"

For some reason, Cristina had a gut feeling that it was not the fault of Bayview Aeronautics at all. Obviously, something mechanical had gone wrong, but it was probably just a freak accident. The plane was cursed by Seattle Grace Mercy Death. Terrible things happened there…

Someone needed to pay, though. No one truly paid during the shooting because Gary Clark had killed himself after finishing his rampage. Lexie was nearly dead… Meredith, Derek, and Arizona had almost died… something needed to change, even if Seattle Grace Mercy Death was the setting of another tragedy tomorrow.

"That's… okay," Cristina agreed.

"Okay, good. That's good to hear. Let's get you in the tub now, okay?"

A bath was easier to maneuver than the shower, especially considering the fact that Cristina was unsteady on her feet. Owen assisted his wife in stripping off her clothes and climbing into the tub; he even washed her hair and shaved her legs.

"You're doing great. You're doing so great; I'm so proud of you," Owen said as he poured warm water over Cristina's shoulders. "Does that feel okay?"

Cristina was sitting upright, staring at the wall which was beginning to morph into the crumpled wreckage of an airplane…

"Look, um… I'm gonna take a leave of absence," Owen said. "I think three years ago I said I was gonna figure out how to make a great roast chicken… still haven't done it. I just love how a house smells when there's a chicken in the oven."

Cristina needed to leave. She needed to run away. She could not let Owen put his career on hold for her when the only thing Cristina needed was to get away…

Owen sighed. "You're gonna feel stronger in a couple of days or weeks… it takes as long as it takes and we have all the time in the world. When you're back on your feet, you'll go back to work at whatever pace you want. You'll go back into the OR and you can do your magic. You won't have to deal with patients or families. I'll take care of all of that."

There was a pause. Cristina was inching further and further away from this scene in the bathroom. Owen kissed her on top of the head. "Okay, are you ready to get out now?"

"I can't," Cristina said.

"What?"

"I can't get out…"

"You can," Owen insisted. "I… I'll help you."

Suddenly, the walls, the plaster broke down. Cristina had been mute for the past month and she could not hide her emotions any longer. "I stayed awake for four days… I remember every single minute of those four days. The fire went out. It was really, really dark. There were so many stars…"

"Oh, God," Owen whispered.

"I remember getting the bugs out of Arizona's leg. I put leaves on it, trying to keep them out," Cristina confessed. "And Lexie… Lexie just kept dying. It was so annoying. I kept trying to help her but she just kept trying to die on me. I just wanted to sleep… Meredith was asleep. Everyone was asleep…

"Lexie and Derek got the last of the water… and I remember drinking something bad. It might have been the fuel from the plane… I… I drank my pee.

"The noises… the animal noises fighting and growling right next to us, right there. I kept waiting for them to come and kill me but they didn't… and then I realized… they could smell the blood. They wanted Lexie… and… Derek and Arizona… Meredith and I… we tried to keep them away… we tried… we gave them… Jerry's body… but we couldn't… get out. I can't… get out."

Owen was stationary, frozen throughout Cristina's speech. As she came to her conclusion, he shook his head. "You're out now. I've got you."

It was not like that. She wished it was, but it was not possible… Cristina watched as the plane wreckage turned back into walls and then into blood stained tiles, littered with bullet holes. Meredith was screaming for Cristina to save McDreamy, to save her husband. Mark was carrying an unconscious Meredith through the forest.

"I'll… I'll never get out."

_**Yes, Arizona lost her leg :( I just didn't think it was realistic to do anything else considering that she had an open fracture in the woods for four days. Plus I'm interested to figure out how her recovery will be different with Mark still alive and in the picture! And Cristina is out of the hospital, too, but as you can probably see, she still has a ways to go in terms of her trauma recovery… like everyone.**_

_**Don't worry, we'll get back to the MerDer and Slexie content soon! I may not even continue doing regular updates on Arizona and Cristina throughout this whole story; this was just an important update because it will affect lots of different characters! Please don't forget to review; reviews mean SO much to me and if you would like, please let me know if you want continuing updates on Arizona and Cristina or if you want me to just stick with MerDer and Slexie. **_

_**Thank you so much for reading! Love you all. Xoxo, merderpedia :)**_


	26. Love Story

_**Author's Note- We are back with the MerDer/Slexie content, guys! I hope you enjoy Chapter 26. This one is told entirely from Meredith's POV! Favorite and follow to stay updated on this story :) **_

Dr. Wyatt had only prescribed enough clonazepam to get Meredith through the initial aftermath of Lexie's setback. Once she had survived the shock and made some progress in therapy, according to her psychiatrist, Meredith was supposed to taper herself off the benzodiazepines. No one wanted Meredith to end up as a junky.

When Meredith had received that prescription from Wyatt, she had told herself that she was going to follow her therapist's orders. This would be the last time that she accepted clonazepam from anyone. Meredith was going to focus on being a good wife, mother, and friend. She would get better.

And then Cristina was released from the ICU. Presented with the option of either being transferred to psych or going home with Owen, Cristina chose the latter. Meredith was sure that her best friend was still struggling and that Owen had no idea what he was getting himself into… but now, it had been several days since Cristina's discharge and Meredith had not spoken to her best friend once. Owen, who communicated regularly with Derek, explained that Cristina was packing up all of her belongings, preparing to move to Minnesota.

Meredith left what felt like a thousand voicemails for Cristina and they all contained the same message: _Cristina, why are you rushing into this? You're still sick. Has your collarbone even healed? Lexie might die any day!_

Nothing Meredith said seemed to have an impact, though. Cristina was determined to get as far away from Seattle Grace Mercy Death as she could and if that meant isolating herself from her former _person_, then so be it.

Meredith did have Derek and Alex; she was grateful for that. But Derek's hand surgery had been moved up by several days. Based on his latest scans, Schacter had determined that more of Derek's nerves were dying every day so in order to have any shot at a full recovery, the operation needed to be performed soon.

Bright and early Monday morning, the Grey-Shepherd family made their way to the hospital and admitted Derek to the orthopedic wing. Normally, his surgery would be an outpatient procedure, but because it was Derek Shepherd on the table, who was still recovering from various other injuries, Schacter had decided to keep his patient for a few nights.

Meredith was not looking forward to sleeping in a bed without her husband. Derek was the only thing that had kept her relatively calm since the plane crash… or rather, Derek and clonazepam. That was not something that needed to be mentioned to Derek himself, though. He was already nervous about surgery.

"Don't worry, everything is going to be fine," Meredith said as she helped Derek get situated in bed. "Schacter has a great plan and Callie is going to assist. She was running the ortho department when she was still a resident."

"I know, I'm in great hands… literally," Derek said, although there was an expression on his face that suggested he was convincing himself as much as he was Meredith.

"You'll have the surgery and then wake up and… pretty soon you'll be back in the OR but not as a patient."

Derek smiled and nodded. "Yeah… nothing to worry about."

Of course, there was the ever-looming reminder that sometimes _things happened _in surgery for no reason. Lexie was proof of that. Meredith's little sister should have been awake a long time ago yet she was still unconscious, in the ICU because something had gone wrong during an endoscopic evacuation.

That had been difficult to process but Meredith could not imagine what she would do if Schacter brought out an EEG machine and announced that Derek was braindead, too.

Actually, Meredith knew exactly what she would do. She would flee across the country to Boston. So what if she had criticized Cristina for running away? That would be the only option if Derek was gone.

But Meredith was getting ahead of herself. Derek was sitting in front of her, alive, and in all likelihood, he was going to be fine.

A few minutes passed and Schacter strolled into the room, a familiar gray chart tucked under one arm. "Dr. Shepherd! Are we feeling good today?"

"Feeling great," Derek said. "But probably not as good as I will once I'm under the influence of morphine."

"Yeah, that's always the best part about surgery. Well, that and the free ice cream," Schacter chuckled. "Alright, then… I'll see you in the OR."

"See you."

Derek returned his glance to Meredith. "You'll watch out for me, right? Make sure I don't get hooked?"

"I didn't let that happen before, did I?"

"No, but just… make sure. It doesn't matter how much I'm begging you; don't increase it more than once an hour."

"I'm sure you'll be fine. You already got through major abdominal surgery. This is minor, compared to that," Meredith said.

"Yeah… that's what I keep trying to tell myself," Derek sighed; his high anxiety level was clear.

Meredith scooted closer to the bed and interlaced her delicate fingers with his strong, seasoned digits. "Hey… what are you so afraid of, anyway? Not being able to operate?"

"No, I… I would be disappointed; I'm not going to lie but being a surgeon isn't that important, not compared with my life," Derek said. "I'm just… I don't know. Being back in the hospital, wearing this…"

"It makes you dark and twisty?" Meredith interjected and Derek smiled.

"Yeah, a little."

The hospital gown that Derek wore was the same attire that every patient donned at Seattle Grace. It was standard, yet there was something depressing about it. Derek had noticeably deflated when he changed clothes.

"Well, that's okay," Meredith insisted. "There's nothing wrong with being dark and twisty for a while, as long as you come back. We'll switch roles. I'll be your bright and shiny."

This seemed to please Derek. He was more relaxed, cheerful, even as the interns prepared him for surgery. When it was time to go, Meredith planted a tender kiss on his lips and promised, "I'll be here when you wake up."

"Can't wait," Derek said.

Meredith had two options as far as what she could do while waiting for Derek. She could remain in his room and watch television, or she could head down to the waiting room and hang out there like typical families did when their loved ones were in surgery. The first choice was out of the question; Meredith knew that she would go insane with worry if she was trapped, alone with her own thoughts, but she did not particularly want to expose herself to the frenzy of Seattle Grace either.

As Meredith rode the elevator down to the surgical wing, she was sparked with a new idea. Instead of exiting on the second floor, Meredith stayed where she was and went all the way to the basement. There, she hiked towards Human Resources and approached the front desk.

"Um… hi. My name is Dr. Meredith Grey; I've been a surgical resident here for the last few years but now I'm going to be starting a fellowship and the Chief of Surgery told me to come get a new badge."

The woman working put a huge smile on her face; she obviously recognized Meredith as one of the plane crash victims. "Oh, of course, sweetie! Come right on over; we'll get you all set up."

Ten minutes later, Meredith walked out of HR with a fresh, shiny ID clipped to the front of her shirt. She was not technically working, but this would get her into parts of the hospital that she would not be allowed in, undocumented.

One of those locations was especially important. Meredith got back onto the elevator, rode up to the second floor, and made it into the gallery of OR 2 just as Derek faded into unconsciousness. Schacter was about to begin working.

There was only one person in the gallery that Meredith was relatively close with and that was April. She did not have on scrubs either. Meredith approached her. "Hey, um… can I sit?"

"Meredith! Yeah, of course…" April scooted over. "I'm so glad I got to see you before I left."

"Oh, um… you're leaving?"

"Yeah, I mean… I have to. I don't really have a job here any longer," April sighed. "I was putting it off as long as I could, until Derek and Lexie and Arizona were better but I can't stay forever. My flight's in a couple hours."

It was strange to hear April talking about getting on a plane so casually. How could she not be the least bit afraid of what happened?

"I wish I could stay longer, especially now, with what happened to Arizona but… I don't think I'm going to be much comfort to her," April continued.

"What happened to Arizona?" Meredith asked. Alex had given her and Derek a ride to the hospital, per usual this morning and he had not mentioned anything.

Something had occurred, though… April's eyes expanded. "You… you didn't hear? She went septic last night. Her organs were failing because of the infection. Carlson had to cut off her leg."

"...What?!"

"Yeah… she was supposed to have her surgery today; she was so close but her body couldn't take it any longer," April explained. "Apparently she's really pissed at Callie because Callie had promised her that she wouldn't let anyone amputate."

"B-But it sounds like she was going to die if she kept her leg. Carlson probably saved her life," Meredith said.

"I know, but she's emotional, which I understand."

Meredith shook her head. It was absolutely crazy… yes, Arizona was alive and that was the important part but the loss of a limb was still a really big deal. And just as the plane crash had strengthened Meredith's relationship with Mark, it had done the same to her friendship with Arizona. Meredith was devastated for the pediatric surgeon.

"God, that's awful… I'll have to go see her later, once this is over."

"I don't think she really wants to see anyone except for Sofia right now," April said. "You should be there for Derek right now anyway. How has he been? How have you been?"

Meredith shrugged. "We've both… been okay. I'm officially a fellow. I mean, I… I'm not trying to brag or anything; I wish you were still here, too but I declined Brigham and told Owen we're officially staying."

"That's awesome. I'm happy for you, Mer," April said; she sounded genuine.

Suddenly, a voice echoed over the gallery loudspeaker, straight from the OR. It was Schacter: "Dr. Grey, while I appreciate your watchful eye, I'm going to have to ask you, respectfully, to leave the gallery."

"Why? I… I work here!" Meredith called and held up her badge.

"I don't care; I know for a fact that you wouldn't want your patient's wife to be staring at you as you operated on them," Schacter said. "Out of the gallery, Dr. Grey, before I call security."

Meredith sighed heavily and got up. The last thing she heard before stomping away was April's voice, squeaking, "I'll keep you updated, Mer!"

Slowly, Meredith trudged down the hallway and out into the waiting room where several other individuals were waiting for news on their loved ones. Meredith figured she would just sit and read a magazine, if her brain allowed her to concentrate on actual words, when she recognized another face in the corner… it was Mark, teary-eyed and scrolling through his phone.

"Hey," Meredith said, walking up to him. "Are you okay?"

Mark looked up. "Oh… hey, Big Grey. Yeah, I'm good. I just came up here to support Derek and to be here for Callie; she's going through a lot. Did you hear about Arizona?"

"Yeah, April just told me," Meredith said. "I'm so sorry. I mean, tell Callie that I'm sorry…"

"I will," Mark said but there was something else in his face that was concerning Meredith. It was like Mark was withholding anger.

Meredith sat down next to him, awkwardly. "Um… are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm perfect. What about you? Aren't you great? That's what you've been telling everyone, isn't it?"

"I don't want to worry Derek," Meredith admitted.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure Derek knows better. We were in a plane crash. None of us are doing too great," Mark sighed. "And like… I'm sorry but I'm having a hard time being around Arizona right now. I love her; she's my family… I'll always care about her but the way she's treating Callie…"

"Well, she just lost her leg last night, didn't she? Give her some time; I'm sure she'll come around."

"Maybe but I mean… come on. She's complaining that she lost a leg. It sucks but that's nothing compared to some people," Mark said and Meredith knew that he was talking about Lexie.

She laid a hand on Mark's shoulder and rubbed, gently. "Have you seen her at all?"

"No," Mark whispered. "Her… I mean, your dad… he doesn't want to let anyone in that isn't family. I get it but… I just want to see her, just once before she dies. I want to tell her how I feel about her."

Meredith smiled, sadly. "This isn't a lifetime movie. You telling Lexie that you love her… that isn't going to make her wake up."

"I know, but I just want to see her. I want to tell her or… or I'll always regret it."

"I'll see what I can do," Meredith said. She did not want to be around Thatcher and Molly either, but she was willing to put up with them for a little while if it meant that much to Mark. Perhaps she could convince them to take a break, to run to the cafeteria, and Meredith could sneak Mark inside.

"Have they said anything to you? You know, about what they're planning to do, as far as life support goes?" Mark asked.

Meredith shook her head. "I haven't been spending hardly anytime around them but knowing my dad… he's probably going to keep her hooked up to that ventilator forever. She'll be shipped off to some long-term facility… die in slow motion."

"That's awful," Mark said. "You know what I would want, if I was Lexie? Thirty days… that's long enough to give me a chance to wake-up but it's not unreasonable."

Thirty days was better than a long-term care facility but in Meredith's opinion, it was still too long. The girl lying upstairs in the ICU was not Lexie. All of the Lexie had been scooped out and only a shell remained… Meredith did not mention anything about that to Mark, though. It was highly unlikely that Lexie would be unplugged in less than thirty days anyway.

She changed the subject. "So, um… do you want to come up to Derek's room with me when he's done? Be there when he wakes up?"

"He'll probably just want to see you…"

"No, he'll want to see you, too," Meredith assumed. "Don't mention anything to him about Arizona though, okay? Or about Lexie… he knows about the stroke and everything but I'm trying to… keep him calm."

"So he doesn't run off into the woods and grow a beard and get drunk?"

"No… well, okay; maybe that's part of it but mostly it's just because of how he was after the shooting," Meredith said. "I know you were there for him but you weren't there as much as I was; you were focused on Lexie… he was so depressed. He was depressed and… and traumatized…"

"Well, that was a little different. Derek had gotten shot and he was reeling off the memories of his dad," Mark said.

"It's not that different," Meredith said and when Mark did not say anything, she sighed. "He went to his first therapy appointment last week. Don't you dare let him know that I told you this but afterwards, he… he cried in my arms. He said they were talking about the shooting and his dad. I think he's putting on just as much of a front to me as I am to him."

Mark frowned. "It sounds like you both need some therapy. Can you talk to Rehmani or Wyatt and see if you can go together?"

"I don't know… maybe," Meredith said but she was sure that would be a disaster. Wyatt would ask way too many questions. She would tell Derek things that Meredith was not comfortable with Derek knowing… it was too much.

For the next hour, the two plane crash survivors sat next to each other in the waiting room, talking very little and thinking far too much. Meredith was thinking too much, anyway… about Derek and Lexie, about Arizona and Cristina… and she had a feeling that Mark was, as well, because she and Mark cared about virtually the same people. Meredith was closer to Cristina and Mark was closer with Arizona but they both loved Derek and Lexie dearly.

Finally, Schacter made his way out into the waiting room, still dressed in his full set of surgical scrubs. Meredith promptly stood up and helped pull Mark to his feet.

"He did great," Schacter reported. "Everything went beautifully. He should be able to start physical therapy in a few weeks and then return to work whenever he has full range-of-motion. I anticipate a full recovery."

Meredith sighed with relief. "Thank God… did you do a postoperative CT or EEG?"

"It… wasn't brain surgery, Dr. Grey. It was just his hand," Schacter said.

This meant nothing to Meredith, who knew that anything could happen when anesthesia was involved. "Do a CT and then hook him up to an EEG. Trust me, you don't want to start with me today."

Thankfully, Schacter did as he was told and if he was annoyed with Meredith, he did not show it. Once he had returned a second time to inform her that Derek's CT appeared completely normal, he led both Meredith and Mark back up to the orthopedic wing where Derek was resting comfortably, the anesthesia working its way out of his body.

It was the first time that Derek had ever had non-emergent surgery. During the shooting, and his other two operations when they were first rescued… his life had been on the line. Now, Derek was relatively healthy but that did not stop Meredith from taking her husband's hand and stroking his hair gently just like she did on that day two years ago.

She was not sure, but she thought that she saw Mark, out of the corner of her eye, turn in the opposite direction and pretend to be preoccupied with his phone. Perhaps the public affection was too much, or maybe he just did not want to witness a happy couple when his soulmate was in the ICU.

Either way, Mark did not have to sit idly for long because this time, it did not take Derek much time to wake-up. Only thirty minutes had passed since Meredith and Mark had arrived in Derek's room when the latter stirred and let out a low, sleep-filled groan.

Meredith gave his hand an extra squeeze and resumed stroking his hair. "Derek? I'm here. I'm right here."

"W-What happened?" Derek opened his eyes, drowsily, then immediately shut them again, too exhausted to exert any extra strength.

"You're just waking up from surgery. It went really well. Schacter thinks your hand is going to be fine."

Derek blinked a few times, coming to terms with reality. "Oh… I'm… w-wait… wait, I'm… on the… boat."

"The boat?"

"I'm on the… the ferryboat…"

Meredith exchanged a look with Mark, who was cracking up. "He thinks he's on a ferryboat?"

"Apparently," Meredith said and she rubbed her husband's shoulder; perhaps he was still dreaming. "Derek? Wake-up… it's me, Meredith. Wake-up; you're in the hospital."

"I know I'm here, I'm… I work here," Derek said, a drowsy grin on his face. "D-Damn… Meredith and I need to… slow down. I can't be… feeling like this when I'm… I'm cutting into people's brains…"

Now Mark was absolutely losing it; his eyes were watering and he was clutching his abdomen to steady his ribs from the abrupt bouncing. "Has he ever done this before?"

"No, never," Meredith said. "I mean, he hasn't had a ton of surgeries but he wasn't like this when he woke-up after the shooting or after his other surgeries in the past month."

Mark strolled over, holding back his hysterical giggles. "Hey, bro. How're you feeling?"

"W-What the… you don't get… you don't get to ask… that," Derek mumbled, incoherently. "You're… you're sleeping with… my wife…"

"No, I'm not, man. That was a long time ago and Addison's not your wife anymore. You're with Meredith, remember? And I'm with Lexie… or I mean… I am if she ever wakes up from her coma."

Derek shook his head. "N-No, I'm… I don't want… Addison. I w-want… M-Meredith!"

"Yeah, and I'm right here. I'm right here, Derek," Meredith said and grabbed his good hand. "What do you need?"

"I need… I need you to… take your pants off…"

Meredith felt her face turn pink. "Yeah, but we can't do that right now. You're just waking up from surgery. We'll do that later, once you're better, okay?"

"N-No… no, now," Derek begged. "Not… after surgery… now's when I need it and… and I need… Meredith."

"Do you want me to go get Dr. Schacter?" Mark offered.

"Um… yeah, that might be a good idea," Meredith said. She did not think anything was wrong with Derek; this happened to patients sometimes when they were processing anesthesia. It had happened to Meredith when she had appendicitis and when she had her wisdom teeth extracted as a teenager.

Meredith would never forget the way she had clutched onto her mother, begging for a strawberry milkshake. Well, she would never forget the stories, anyway. Meredith did not remember actually doing that. She just knew that Ellis Grey had not been pleased by her daughter's drug tolerance.

Still, it would be smart to have Schacter come and examine Derek. Mark limped out of the room on his crutches and it seemed like an eternity before he returned with the orthopedic surgeon. In the meantime, Meredith had to deal with Derek who was attempting to grab her boobs but mainly just slapping her stomach.

Finally, there was a knock on the door; Meredith turned to see Schacter walking through the door with Derek's chart open in front of him. "Is he coming around?"

"Er… sort of but he's a little confused," Meredith said.

"Well, he's just waking-up from the anesthesia; it's normal for things to be a little fuzzy," Schacter said. He bent over in front of Derek to measure his vitals. "Hello, Dr. Shepherd! How are you feeling?"

Derek stuck his tongue out, like he was trying to get feeling back in his mouth. "I can't talk… now. I'm… I'm having hot… sex with my wife… on… on the ferryboat."

Schacter froze, Mark laughed, and Meredith sighed. "See what I mean?"

"And… and then we're going… for… for food," Derek continued. "We're gonna… gonna get… um… some of the… the cupcakes. Meredith… she won't think… I'll eat them. I never… used to eat them. But I'm g-gonna… I'm gonna eat the… cupcakes now. M-Meredith… she's gonna be… so proud. She'll be so proud… she'll give me… more sex."

"Does your husband have a history of… this, Dr. Grey?" Schacter asked, straightening up again.

"No… in the past, when he's woken up from surgeries, he's actually been really anxious."

"Well, I suppose every surgery can be a bit different," Schacter said. "Give him some time. Have him drink some water, if you can. The anesthesia should ware off soon."

Meredith knew the drill; she nodded. "Okay, but everything else looks good?"

"Everything looks stable, yes," Schacter approved. "Now, real quick, before I go… just a few of the usual questions; I'm sure you're familiar with them. Dr. Shepherd, can you tell me your full name?"

Derek thought for a moment and Meredith was about to get concerned when he blurted out, "I'm… I'm McDreamy!"

"Oh, God," Meredith whispered; her face was darkening from pink to red and Mark was rolling in his chair. If nothing else, Derek's behavior was entertaining and helpful to the man who had been crying every day.

"Right, yes but… what is your legal name?" Schacter pressed.

"M-McSteamy… no, I… McDreamy…" Derek said and then he changed tones and shouted, "I'M THE SEATTLE GRACE BRAIN BUTCHER!"

Schacter took a deep breath. "Okay, I think that's as far as we're going to get right now. You'll keep me updated, Dr. Grey?"

"Yeah, um… yeah, I will," Meredith said and Schacter practically sprinted out of the room. She turned back to her husband. "Derek, do you know where you are?"

Derek was fiddling with one of his IV tubes. "I'm… I'm not stupid, you know… I'm… I'm actually… really smart."

"I know you are… you're a neurosurgeon; you're very smart," Meredith said. "So can you tell me where you are?"

It took another few seconds; Derek looked around and he nodded, professionally. "I'm in the Bahamas."

"Okay," Meredith said and she started to smile. It was not the end of the world. It was actually pretty funny. She just had to learn how to laugh again. Mark was holding his phone; he was videotaping the scene. "Um… who are you in the Bahamas with?"

"M-My wife," Derek replied, matter-of-factly. "My hot… amazing… sexy wife… Meredith. And my… our… kids."

_Kids? As in, plural?_ Meredith thought to herself. Yes, Derek was confused but this was a new level of crazy if he thought that he had more than one child.

"Oh, really? How many kids do you have?" Meredith wondered.

"Ten," Derek said. "Ten plus… plus Zola… cause… cause I'm M-McDreamy…"

"Right, you're McDreamy and you couldn't keep Meredith off of you," Meredith said. Somehow, she could sense that Derek did not recognize her but that was fine. He would get a good laugh out of this later.

"Hey, Derek," Mark chimed in. "What are you doing right now?"

"W-Who is that?" Derek asked.

"It's me… it's Mark. McSteamy, remember?"

"Right," Derek said. "Right but… but you're not McSteamy… I mean, McDreamy. There's only one McDreamy. That's me and I'm… I'm tired. I've been… surfing and… and stuff. I'm… hungry."

Meredith stood up. "I'll get you something, okay? I'll get you some um… some water."

"That sounds… amazing," Derek said.

Carefully, Meredith poured a small cup of water from the nearby pitcher, added a straw, and held it to Derek's lips. "Here you go…"

"Oh, God… yum," Derek said as he sucked on the liquids. "God, that's… that's amazing; it… it tastes like… heaven. I've… I've been there… you know… thank you, baby."

"You're welcome, baby," Meredith grinned back. "Do you need anything else?"

"Just… just you, baby," Derek said. "Come here and… and tell me about… the song."

"The song?"

"Our song… our… our love story."

"Okay, um… I'll tell you our love story," Meredith said and took a deep breath, thinking back to the night before her intern year was due to begin. "Once upon a time… there was this girl in a bar. She had a story… a complicated story but she didn't want anyone to know about it because she was dark and twisty inside. So when she met this guy… this perfect guy in the bar… she didn't even tell him her name. All this girl did was get the guy drunk and bring her back to her house the night before she was supposed to start her new job.

"That's all either of them thought it was going to be… a quick, one-night-stand that would serve as an escape from stressful, everyday life…"

**MTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTB**

"What the hell do you mean, you're leaving?!"

Four days had passed since Derek's surgery. Four, long days had dragged by with Derek complaining about his awful state of delirium while coming off of anesthesia, and throughout those four days, Meredith had not spoken to Cristina or her biological family once. She knew that Thatcher remained stationed at Lexie's bedside and that Molly had Laura and Aiden flown to Seattle as unaccompanied minors, but Meredith was avoiding everyone, focusing only on Derek and their fast-approaching move into the Dream House.

And now, out of nowhere, Cristina had called Meredith and told her that she was leaving Seattle for good.

"I don't know why you sound so surprised; I told you I was going to Mayo and you told me you were going to Boston," Cristina said over the phone.

"Yeah, I did but that was before the plane we were on dropped out of the sky," Meredith said.

"And why exactly does that change things?"

Meredith would have thrown her hands into the air but she could not execute the motions; she was carrying Zola with one arm and holding her phone with the other. "I… I don't know because everything is different?!"

"No, actually, everything is exactly the same as it's always been. This is Seattle Grace Mercy Death and if I were you, I would get the hell out while I still could," Cristina said. "Look, my car is packed and I'm outside the house. If you want to see me before I leave, you need to get down here now."

"Okay, I… I'll be right there," Meredith said. She hung up the phone and rushed into the master bedroom where Derek was lying in bed.

"Mer, look at this," he said, turning his laptop in her direction. "Mark put that video of me on Facebook… why the hell does he think this is funny?!"

"Probably because it is funny," Meredith said; she closed Derek's laptop and threw it aside. "Here, I need you to take Zola for a minute… I have to go see Cristina."

"Right now?" Derek asked, awkwardly balancing his daughter with one arm. "Can you drive?"

Meredith had not attempted to drive since the plane crash. It had been more than a month since the surgeons were rescued, though. Cristina, who had barely been released from the psych ward, was planning on commuting all the way to Minnesota. Sooner or later, Meredith would have to jump back on the horse.

"Yeah, um… Wyatt cleared me to drive short-distances a few days ago."

That was a lie. Meredith hated how much she had been lying to Derek, to everyone, but her sessions with Wyatt had not been getting anywhere. And Meredith had a driver's license; there were no restrictions. It was not like she was technically forbidden to drive in the state of Washington.

"Okay, well… what's going on? What's so urgent?" Derek pressed.

"I don't know. Cristina seems to think she's moving to Mayo, like, right now and I need to stop her," Meredith said. "I mean, I don't think her collarbone has even totally healed yet."

"She's running," Derek summarized.

"Yeah, she's running."

In a sense, Meredith did not blame her. If Derek had died in the plane crash, Meredith knew that she would have run, too, as far away from Seattle as she could get. But no one had died, not officially. Lexie was practically braindead and Arizona had lost a leg, but according to Meredith, that meant that the surgeons should stick together more than ever. Their meeting with Bayview Aeronautics was approaching. It was not time for Cristina to jet off across the country.

"Okay, well, be safe," Derek said as Meredith rushed out the door.

Reaching Cristina as quickly as possible was a priority but Meredith knew she needed to take her time as she got behind the wheel of her Jeep. She could hardly remember what it was like to drive and the thought of navigating a motor vehicle on the busy streets of Seattle was terrifying. If Meredith made one wrong move, she could end up crushed in wreckage all over again.

She took it slow… she did not go over fifty miles per hour, even on the highway. Cristina was standing outside of the firehouse apartment that she shared with Owen when Meredith arrived, a shiny, new Toyota Corolla next to her.

Meredith pulled her Jeep over onto the shoulder of the road; she knew before looking that it was the worst parking job of her life. Meredith was practically hyperventilating from the transportation. She jumped out of the car and approached Cristina, her mouth hanging open. "What the hell? You bought a new car?"

"Yeah, but I was already planning on doing that to congratulate myself on passing the Boards," Cristina said. "What the hell are you doing still driving that junker? You know you're going to be getting a huge raise."

Meredith had not yet negotiated the financial details of her contract. She was aware, though, that she would be making significantly more money as a fellow than she ever did as a resident. Meredith had just not taken the time to think about what she would do with that money.

"Yeah, um… I guess my mind's been a little preoccupied," Meredith confessed. "But stop distracting me. Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Cristina nodded. "Yes, it's one highway all the way to Minnesota through Montana, cross one of the Dakotas, I can't remember which…"

"No, I meant by leaving. Are you sure you're okay with it? Are you sure it's the right thing to do?"

"Meredith, not you, too. Owen just tried to…"

"Well, yeah because I'm worried that you're just running away," Mereidth interrupted.

"Well, yeah, I am! I'm fleeing like Bambi from a forest fire, and so should you, because horrible things happen here," Cristina said.

"No, something horrible happened and we should stick together…"

Cristina was getting downright angry. "You know what? We have stuck together. And we've grown together, like two gnarled trees twining around each other, trying to survive."

"Survive what?! Cristina, this is life!" Meredith shouted. "Bad things happen. It's hard… you find your people, you find your person, and you lean on them."

"Oh, God love you, Mer," Cristina snorted. "You know, so many horrible things have happened to you and maybe you're okay with it, but you shouldn't be. Go to Harvard, go anywhere except here, seeing your dead sister around every corner…"

"Hey!" This was the breaking point; Meredith was not going to tolerate this any longer. "Hey, for your information, Lexie isn't dead yet!"

"Not legally but come on, Mer. We all know she's a turnip."

Both women went silent. Meredith stared at Cristina and Cristina stared at Meredith and Meredith fought back the tears that were swimming in her eyes. "Y-You… you did not just say that…"

"I… I didn't mean it like that…"

"Oh, no. You meant it," Meredith said. "Look… I know Lexie's probably never coming back. And Derek might never operate again. And Alex is leaving. Everyone is leaving and everyone is dying and when Lexie dies, I'm going to be stuck here all by myself trying to comfort my dad and Mark."

"Mer, I'll come back when Lexie dies…"

"Really? When it's time to pull the plug, I'll call you and you'll just get on a plane?" Meredith knew the odds and the odds were that none of the plane crash survivors were getting on an aircraft anytime soon.

Cristina sighed. "I will figure something out. If and when Lexie dies, I'll be here for you, Meredith. But right now, I need to get the hell away from this place and if I were you, I would leave, too. Your mother died here. Your husband was shot here. George died here."

"Okay, well now you sound like the same scary, loner bitch who rode in here on a motorcycle five years ago," Meredith said. "Like… like the past five years never happened."

"Well, you know, part of me wishes it hadn't!" Cristina spat.

"Oh, okay… well, then you should just go then," Meredith decided. "And you should not look back. Go."

"Meredith…"

"No, you know, Cristina… you're right. I'm not your person. And Owen isn't your person. Your person is you and it always has been."

The twisted sisters glared at each other and then Cristina did as she was told. She jumped into the driver's seat of her new, red Corolla and sped off down the street. She did not look back.

Meredith took a deep, steadying breath to keep the tears from pouring out. She squeezed her hands into fists to prevent herself from reaching for her cell phone and calling Cristina. She paced across the street and through the front doors of Seattle Grace where she promptly paged Owen Hunt 911.

The Chief of Surgery appeared less than five minutes later. "Meredith, what is it?! Is it Cristina?!"

"No, I… I mean, yeah, Cristina's gone but that's not why I paged you," Meredith said. "Um… I've actually been making a lot of progress in my sessions with Dr. Wyatt and if everything continues to go well, she's probably going to clear me to start working soon. I mean, I probably won't be able to operate for a while but I can work in the pit so I wondered if now would be a good time to talk about my new contract?"

Owen glanced at his watch. "Er… yeah, I guess I have a few minutes. Why don't you follow me up to the conference room by my office?"

"Lead the way," Meredith smiled.

When they arrived at the familiar table, Owen grabbed a standard, manilla folder out of a nearby cabinet; it was labeled with Meredith's name. "Okay, so… you'll be starting your general surgery fellowship, primarily under the direction of Webber and Bailey although you will be taking on your own caseload of patients… based on the traditional guidelines for a fellowship, your contract will last two years; does that sound right?"

"Sounds good to me," Meredith agreed.

"You're already registered with HR so that's taken care of," Owen said. "I guess all that's left is your salary. As of right now, the most I will be able to offer you is 300,000 per year but that could increase depending on your work."

Meredith paused, unsure what to say. Was Owen honestly suggesting that 300,000 dollars was less than Meredith deserved? She had been making less than 50,000 dollars each of the last five years as a resident.

"I… um, yeah… that'll be fine," she grinned.

"Alrighty, then," Owen said and after writing down a few notes on the official contract, scooted the piece of paper across the table towards Meredith. "Whenever you're ready, Dr. Grey."

Meredith took a few minutes to read over the fine print and then picked up the pen that Owen was offering and signed her name on the bottom of the page.

"Welcome back to Seattle Grace," Owen said; he handed Meredith a navy folder that read _Seattle Grace Mercy West Hospital. _It was strikingly similar to the one that Meredith had received on the first day of her intern year.

"Thank you, Dr. Hunt."

"Got any big plans to celebrate your raise?" Owen asked.

"Um… I've been driving the same Jeep since I was in medical school so a new car is probably on the list," Meredith admitted.

Owen chuckled. "Well, go ahead and treat yourself. You deserve it."

As soon as the meeting came to a close, Meredith made her way out of the hospital. She did not want to risk running into Dr. Wyatt or worse, Thatcher and Molly. She jumped back into her Jeep and drove into the outskirts of Seattle where most of the car dealerships were located.

Meredith drove past all of them, but in her heart, she already knew what kind of car she was going to purchase. It was the same vehicle that Lexie had sworn she was going to buy once she became an attending. Meredith turned into the Lexus dealership and found one of the salesmen out front.

"Hello, ma'am!" the salesmen greeted her, brightly. "Are you looking for anything in particular today?"

"Yes, actually," Meredith said. "I've had this same old junker for almost nine years and I just got a big raise at work so… so I wanted to look into the new RX 350."

**MTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTB**

Meredith had left the house at approximately 8:00 in the morning, and according to Derek, all she was doing was going to Cristina's house to talk her out of moving. That plan had obviously failed, and now, Meredith was icing the cake. She was returning home at 4:00 in the afternoon in a brand new Lexus.

_He can't be mad. He has no right to be mad,_ Meredith told herself as she pulled into the driveway. When Derek had recovered physically from his gunshot wound two years ago, he had gone out and purchased a Porsche.

Deep down, though, Meredith thought that she knew the difference. Derek was in the midst of an outstanding career. He had needed a new car for a long time, and he made over two million dollars per year. Most importantly, Derek had talked with Meredith before buying his Porsche. He had confessed that he wanted to do something for himself after all he had been through and Meredith had encouraged him to get the sportscar.

Thankfully, Derek was not standing at the front door when Meredith arrived home. He was hidden away somewhere, likely putting Zola down for her nap. When Meredith walked through the front door, though, doing her utmost to pretend like everything was normal, he came running.

"Where have you been? I've called you a dozen times!"

"I'm sorry," Meredith sighed. "The whole Cristina situation was more… complicated than I originally thought."

"Did you convince her to stay in Seattle?"

"No, and by the time we finished talking… I barely even cared anymore. She's selfish; she's always been a selfish person and I really don't care if she stays here or not."

"That doesn't sound like you," Derek frowned; he slipped his good arm around her. "What's going on? Do we need to dance it out again?"

Before she could help it, Meredith smiled. That was always one of her fondest memories. During her second year of residency, she had her first major fight with her best friend. Cristina would not speak to her for weeks and one night, when Meredith was feeling especially lonesome, Derek had turned on music and danced with her in the living room, despite the fact that he absolutely hated to dance.

"I'm okay but thank you," Meredith giggled. "I doubt you're healthy enough to dance it out anyway."

"I'm extremely healthy. My liver and lungs are healed and my hand's feeling much stronger. Schacter says I can start physical therapy in a couple weeks," Derek said.

"And then you'll be operating again…"

"Well, that's the hope, but like I said… I'm fortunate, either way."

Meredith nodded and then detangled herself from Derek's arms. It was time to face the inevitable. "Okay, look, I… I need to tell you something and I need you to not freak-out."

"Last time you said that, you told me that you didn't want to move to Boston," Derek said. "Please tell me you didn't change your mind because it's too late to go back on our word to Owen."

"No, I didn't change my mind," Meredith said. "Actually, the opposite… I signed my new contract today. I ran into Owen and we just decided to get it done."

Derek's face brightened; he was genuinely ecstatic for his wife. "Mer! That's amazing. Congratulations… we should do something to celebrate."

"Yeah, that's the thing… I kind of already celebrated."

"What did you do?" Derek did not look angry, merely curious and perhaps a bit amused.

"Promise you won't be mad?"

"I… of course I won't be mad, Meredith. What did you do?"

Meredith grabbed Derek's healthy hand and tugged him through the front door, onto the porch.

"That's what I did," she said, and pointed at the brand new, black Lexus sitting in the driveway.

At first, Derek froze up completely, and then his eyes bulged. "You… you bought a car?!"

"Please don't be mad," Meredith repeated. "Please, you have no right to be mad. I know I should have talked with you first but I'm making 300 grand this year and… and after the shooting, you bought your Porsche…"

"Meredith, I'm not mad," Derek said.

"You're not?"

"No, why would I be mad? You've needed a new car for years. Actually, if you didn't buy something for yourself soon, then I was probably going to get you something for Mother's Day or your birthday."

"Really?"

"Really."

Meredith sighed with relief. She did not know why she had been so worried about Derek's reaction. He could have a temper sometimes, but it was not like Meredith was afraid of her husband. Usually, if he started yelling, then Meredith just screamed back twice as loud. They fought and then they made up. It was part of their relationship.

"Why did you go with Lexus, though?" Derek asked. "I thought I remembered you saying you wanted another Jeep when the time came, or a minivan."

"I… don't know. I mean, this is a crossover so it should fit Zola and her friends once she starts school," Meredith said. "Plus, I… I know this is gonna sound dumb but… Lexie always wanted a Lexus. She thought it was cute that it matched her name. She was going to buy one once she finished residency."

There was a pause, Derek put his hand on his wife's shoulder, tenderly. "Oh, Meredith… you know, Lexie might still get a chance to buy her Lexus."

"No, she won't. You're a smart neurosurgeon; you know better," Meredith said, referencing the silly statement Derek had made after his last surgery.

He smiled, sadly. "But I've been wrong before. There have been times, I… I thought a patient was gone and they've come back."

"If Lexie wasn't Lexie… if she was just some random girl that had been in an accident and you were her doctor, what would you recommend? Would you tell my dad to keep her on life support?"

"I… I don't know," Derek said and Meredith sighed so he continued. "I don't know because I haven't personally examined her. I haven't seen her scans. I would need more information to give a suggested care plan."

"She has minimal brain activity, Derek."

"She did last time you saw her. When's the last time you saw your sister, Meredith?"

Meredith had to think about it. It was the night that Lexie was originally supposed to wake-up, the night that she had suffered her stroke.

"More than a week ago," Meredith said. "I just… I've been trying to avoid my dad."

"I know but something might have changed since the last time you saw her. We have the meeting with Bayview on Thursday. Go see her tomorrow and then on Thursday, if everything's okay, you can bring me."

"To see Lexie? You can't be her doctor."

"I'm not going to be her doctor. I just want to visit her. She's my little sister, too," Derek smiled and Meredith leaned her head onto his shoulder.

"I'm glad you're here."

Derek kissed her on the forehead. "I'm glad I'm here, too, although I'm not sure where else I would be."

Meredith opened her mouth and then closed it again. She could tell him about the possibilities… about how Derek had almost died a dozen times out in the woods and how Meredith thanked her lucky stars every day that her husband had survived. She could tell him about how she still woke-up in the middle of the night and watched him breathe, just in case he stopped.

There was no need for that though. Derek was happy, relatively speaking and Meredith was determined to keep it that way.

"Do you want to go on a ride? See my new car up close and personal?" she offered.

"You know I'd love to," Derek said. "But we probably shouldn't leave our daughter alone in the house."

Luckily, right as Derek said this, there were approaching footsteps and Alex appeared at the top of the staircase, home early from work.

"Karev!" Derek exclaimed, the joy evident in his voice. "Perfect timing. Meredith and I have something, er… very important to do. Would you mind keeping an eye on Zola for us for an hour or so?"

"Okay," Alex agreed. "Hey, what's with the Lexus in the driveway? We didn't acquire another roommate, did we?"

"No, we're not doing anymore roommates because this place is probably going up for sale in the next week," Meredith said. "That's my car."

"The Lexus is your car?"

"Yeah, I signed my new contract today so I decided to treat myself."

"Wow, that's nice. You wouldn't want to let me take a ride around town in that, would you?" Alex asked.

Meredith shrugged. "Maybe later but like Derek said, we have something important we have to do first. Besides, you can buy your own fancy car once you get to Hopkins."

At this comment, Alex went inside, almost certainly not in the mood to start another argument about Hopkins. Meredith turned back to her husband and ran her fingers through the beautiful, dark curls atop his head. "Are you ready?"

"I'm ready," Derek said.

"You're healthy?"

"I'm healthy."

Everything about Derek, other than his hand was healthy, anyway and for right now, that was going to have to be enough. It had been more than a month since the plane crash. It had been more than a month since Meredith and Derek shared any true intimacy. Meredith was unsure if her ribs were 100 percent healed but in all likelihood, once she and Derek got started, her pain would be forgotten.

They positioned themselves right outside the Lexus, hidden between the bushes that lined either side of the driveway. Meredith slid her hands down Derek's chest, around his waist, soaking in every inch of his gorgeous body. She was not sure how, but in the month since they had last been intimate, Meredith seemed to have forgotten the magnitude of her husband's beauty.

Derek appeared to be having the same revelation. Pressing his wife against the driver's side door, Derek touched his lips to hers, softly at first, and then harder, with more passion… Meredith's tongue explored Derek's mouth and already, the former was unsure how long she would be able to hold out.

"Mer…" he whispered; Derek's hand clutched at Meredith's chest, doing its best to unbutton her shirt with limited resources.

"Here, I… I'll help," Meredith said. "I have another surprise. I… I bought something else today… after the Lexus…"

"Something for me?"

"I… yes, I… I guess so," Meredith breathed. She cast her top aside and revealed the black, lacy lingerie she had picked up at Victoria's Secret on the way home. Meredith did not typically buy herself a lot of new clothes, but this was a special occasion. She felt Derek's shudder of pleasure as he glimpsed her figure.

Less than five minutes later, they were both in the driver's seat; Meredith was straddling herself on Derek's lap. It scarcely reminded her of the time they had had sex at the party Izzie threw intern year… Bailey caught them in the act and after that, did everything in her power to make Meredith's residency a living hell.

Derek's pants were bunched on the floor of the Lexus; he was in the process of removing Meredith's jeans when the first real throb of pain shot up her abdomen. She moaned, yet managed to turn it into a moan of elation.

"It's… it's been too long," Derek said. Meredith made a soft sound of agreement in between the kisses that Derek planted along her neck.

And then, just as Derek had removed Meredith's matching thong, the pain came back and this time, there was no use trying to fool him. Meredith was borderline nauseous; she squirmed away, freeing herself.

Derek quickly backed off. "I… I'm sorry; are you okay?"

"I'm… I'm okay, just… don't touch that spot… again…"

"Which spot?"

"Um… I don't know, like… right here," Meredith said, fingering her aching abdomen.

It was going to be difficult, if not impossible to have sex without touching one another's abdomens but Derek nodded. "Okay, yeah, just… I'll just…"

They shifted positions and suddenly, Derek groaned as well, and it was not a good type of groan. "Are you okay?"

"I'm… I'm fine," Derek said, gasping for air.

Meredith pulled herself off of her husband, panting. "M-Maybe… it's a little… soon for this?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm fine, don't stop," Derek pleaded.

"You're having trouble breathing, like… more than normal," Meredith said. "It's probably from your lung surgery and I don't know about you but… but my ribs are killing me."

His guard had been pushed down; Derek's demeanor crumpled. "Dammit…"

"It's okay," Meredith said. "It's okay; it's only been a little over a month. We'll get the hang of it."

"B-But I… I wanted to baptize… your new car…"

"I did, too," Meredith admitted. She rolled over into the passenger seat and slowly began to put her clothes back on.

It was not really that, though. Meredith had bought her Lexus on a whim; it was her pathetic attempt to honor Lexie. More than anything, what Meredith wanted was to prove to herself, and to Derek, that one aspect of their lives was the same as before the plane crash. She wanted them to be able to make love. She wanted to be able to tell Dr. Wyatt that she was getting better and Meredith wanted to not feel like a complete and utter scam.

Both of them grunting slightly from their various body aches, Meredith and Derek got out of the car and made their way inside. Zola had woken-up from her nap and Alex was bouncing her on one hip, while at the same time, carrying a basket of laundry.

"We finished early. I can take her back now, Alex," Meredith said.

"Oh, thank God," Alex said. He passed Zola over to her mother. "Sorry, I normally would be able to do more but right now, things are just kinda hectic."

"Yeah, why are you home so early?"

"Stark is going to be up there all night so hunt said I could come home early to finish packing," Alex explained. "There's nothing I'm going to be able to do for Arizona so… so I'm heading to Hopkins."

Meredith's heart, which was already struggling to remain optimistic, was sinking all the way to the ground. "Like… now? You're going to Hopkins now?"

"Either tomorrow or the next day, yeah," Alex said and sighed at the look on Meredith's face. "Come on, Mer… you knew this was gonna happen eventually. I've already put it off twice."

"B-But Cristina left this morning. And Lexie…" Meredith stopped short. She could not stand herself anymore. She hated that she had become this woman that was literally begging her adult friends to remain in Seattle because she was lonely. Meredith should be happy. She had Derek and Zola… she should be happy…

Alex understood, or at least it looked like he did; there was pain etched in the lines on his face. That did not change anything, though. Nothing was going to change anything. "I'm sorry, Mer. Really, I… I know you feel like people are forgetting about you…"

"I don't feel like that," Meredith interjected. "No, I'm fine. I am incredibly lucky to be alive and you should… you should take your chance while you still have it, Alex. You should go to Hopkins and become a pediatric God."

"You're going to be the Goddess of General Surgery; I hope you know that," Alex said. "Seriously, once Webber's retired and Bailey's Chief of Surgery, you're gonna be Chief of General. You're probably gonna win a Harper Avery someday… I mean, I'll win it first but you'll win, too."

"Thanks, Evil Spawn," Meredith said. "Hey, um… I don't think either Derek or I feel like cooking. Do you want to order Chinese food or something?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "You hate Chinese food."

"I know but you love it and Derek loves it… I'm pretty sure Zola likes it," Meredith said. "Come on, we can celebrate. Cristina's on her way to Mayo and you're going to Hopkins. I'll be starting my fellowship here. Let's order Chinese food."

"Okay, but you're paying since you have that fancy new contract," Alex said.

"Deal."

Perhaps it was an inclination of how far they had come… when Meredith was first discharged from the ICU, she had sat idly on the couch while Alex had pizza delivered and practically forced her to eat. Now, on what was potentially Alex's last night in Seattle, Meredith was on the phone ordering from Little China while her friend ran around the house, throwing his belongings into suitcases.

If this was progress, though, then it was nothing like the journey that Meredith had experienced after past traumas. In the months following the shooting, for example, Meredith had pretended to be okay and pretended to heal and eventually, it seemed, she was okay. She was healed. She was the strong one, the one there for Derek and Cristina as they dealt with their PTSD.

_Things will change,_ Meredith told herself. _You have no choice; you have to get better at some point._

To assist herself in the meantime, though, Meredith reached into her purse and retrieved her supply of clonazepam, courtesy of Dr. Wyatt. She opened the medicine bottle and had just swallowed a pill when she realized that there were no more white capsules left.

Meredith had taken her last clonazepam, nearly a full week early, and now she had nothing to cushion the impact of losing Lexie.

_**I hope you enjoyed! I am trying to mix a little more humor into this story because I know it's super dark and depressing. Hope you enjoyed Derek on morphine and the hint of MerDer porn. If you did, PLEASE don't forget to review! Reviews are so important to me and encourage me to continue writing.**_

_**The next two chapters are going to be super important to the plot of this story, too, and they shouldn't be quite as repetitive as this has been so far! Thank you again so much for reading. It means so much to me to know there are other people who want to keep the legends of MerDer and Slexie alive.**_

_**Xoxo, merderpedia :)**_


	27. Killing Me Softly

_**Author's Note- Hi, everyone! Sorry that it has been so long without an update. I have been on vacation for the last week in Disneyworld (yes, it was amazing) and before that, I was busy with school and packing etc. This chapter has actually been written for a while but I wanted to make sure it was properly edited before posting it because plot holes annoy me.**_

_**Anyway, I worked hard on this chapter so let me know what you think! Not gonna lie, it is pretty angsty and dramatic but what else is new? And it will actually serve as a very important turning point for this story. Hope you enjoy!**_

It was a restless night. Based on his steady breathing, Derek slept soundly, but Meredith was awake almost constantly, the same words running through her mind… the words that Derek had said to her more than three years ago, when he had proposed marriage…

_If there's a crisis, you don't freeze. You move forward. You get the rest of us to move forward. Because you've seen worse. You've survived worse. And you know we'll survive, too. You say you're all dark and twisty. That's not a flaw. That's a strength. It makes you who you are…_

Those sentences were all that was urging Meredith forward, at the moment. Or rather, it was that belief that kept Meredith confident enough to continue her act. According to Derek, who in Meredith's opinion, was the greatest human on planet earth, she was the constant, the one that was not traumatized to the same extent as everyone else. Meredith was supposed to be the one that held everyone else up and so that was what she would continue to do.

In order to remain her resilient self, though, Meredith would need a plan. She would need to find someone else to prescribe her more clonazepam and trazodone… asking Dr. Wyatt again was out of the question. And then she would need to figure out a way to fill the script without her psychiatrist knowing.

Surely, there was someone at Seattle Grace, other than April who had gone home to Moline, willing to help out a plane crash survivor…

Early Wednesday morning, Meredith got up, showered, and changed into a simple outfit. She woke-up Zola and Derek, pretended to eat breakfast, and then practically rushed out the door.

"Are you going to visit Lexie?" Derek called after her as she ran towards her newly-acquired Lexus.

"Yeah, but first I have an appointment with Dr. Wyatt. I'm pretty sure she's going to clear me to start working today," Meredith said.

It was fast; none of the other plane crash victims had been allowed to work yet. Cristina was technically working at Mayo, but that was different. She did not have to abide by the same rules as the Seattle Grace employees.

"Okay, good luck!" Derek said. "Remember we're meeting with Bayview at 9:00 tomorrow morning."

"I know," Meredith sighed. The lawsuit was important and she was looking forward to getting some answers about the plane crash but the legal meetings themselves were not going to be fun. Based on her past experiences with patients that had sued the hospital, Meredith knew that all of the survivors were going to be forced to relive their trauma in shocking detail and whether or not Lexie had improved, it was doubtless that Thatcher would be sobbing his eyes out about his poor, precious little girl.

That was not something that Meredith needed to think about yet, though. For right now, all she had to focus on was her appointment with Wyatt. When she arrived at Seattle Grace, Meredith headed straight to the psychiatric floor.

Wyatt's office door was open and the therapist was waiting for her patient.

"Good morning, Dr. Wyatt," Meredith greeted her, pleasantly.

"Good morning, Meredith," Wyatt said in return. Her tone was unreadable but Meredith prayed that her outlook had shifted since the last session.

She sat down on the familiar couch and watched as Wyatt took her place in a chair. "Alright… how are we feeling today?"

"Well, I'm not gonna lie, I'm feeling a little pissed off," Meredith said, launching into her newest plan of attack. "My best friend, Cristina left for Minnesota yesterday. She's not even fully healed, physically, from the plane crash and she's rushing into things. It's not healthy."

"I see," Wyatt said. "But remember, we are not here to talk about Cristina and her trauma. We are here to talk about you, Meredith. Why do you feel so upset about Cristina leaving?"

It was fairly obvious. "Because… I mean, she's my best friend! I'm going to miss her a lot and I don't think she was listening to anything I had to say."

"It does seem like strange timing."

"Exactly… we're about to have our first legal meeting with Bayview Aeronautics. I know bad things have happened here but bad things happen everywhere and Cristina told me she wished that the last five years had never even happened."

"That must have been painful to hear."

"It was," Meredith acknowledged. "I mean, don't get me wrong… some of the last five years have sucked. The shooting and the plane crash but… there's been a lot of beauty, too."

Wyatt made a few notes on her legal pad. "Alright, well… we've already established that you can recognize the beauty in the world, Meredith. Now, it's time to shift our focus. It's time to talk about the parts of your world that aren't quite so beautiful."

"Like… what?" Meredith asked but before Wyatt could answer, she perked up with a new topic. "Oh! I forgot to tell you… I officially signed my new contract yesterday! I'm making more money than I ever have so I decided to reward myself. I bought a new car."

"Really?" Wyatt raised her eyebrows. "Well, that's exciting. What made you decide to do that?"

"I don't know. Derek's been bugging me, saying I need a new car and I figured now was as good a time as any," Meredith lied.

It was a necessary lie. Saying that _Cristina had bought a new car so I needed to buy a new car_ did not seem therapeutic.

"Interesting," Wyatt replied. "What kind of car did you buy?"

"It's a new 2013 Lexus RX 350… it's like a crossover, and it's black."

"Very nice. And I assume that you have been driving it?"

"Well, yeah," Meredith said and then she remembered that she was supposed to get cleared by Wyatt to drive. "Oh, am I not supposed to be doing that? Cause I… I mean, I've felt fine and I have my driver's license…"

Wyatt smiled, tentatively. "No, Meredith, you can drive. I was going to wait a little longer to give you permission but I suppose there's no point in telling you to stop now, if you really do feel alright."

"I feel fine and actually, I think I'm good to start working again, too," Meredith said. "I know I probably can't operate yet but I really feel like I could do consults in the pit."

Now Wyatt's smile disappeared. Her face was frustrated, her body demeanor, agitated. "Hold on, Meredith. I thought you were just telling me that Cristina was rushing things by returning to work so quickly."

"She is but that's different. She's driving across the country to Minnesota and she was nearly committed to the psych ward."

"I see…" Wyatt scrawled down more notes on her legal pad; she stared Meredith up and down and sighed. "No, I'm sorry, Meredith but barely one month has passed since you were trapped in the woods, performing bootleg procedures on your family and friends."

"N-No, I… I didn't do that. I told you, it was Cristina and Mark that…"

"You helped. I know you helped; Cristina spilled everything to Owen Hunt and like I've said before, word travels fast in this hospital."

"So… so what are you saying, that I can't be a surgeon?"

"I'm saying the same thing that I've been telling you this entire time. You have to face your trauma. You have to cry, if that's what it takes and you have to get honest with me about what you're feeling. Until you do that, all you're doing is hiding from your pain and you're going to end up acting impulsively, punishing someone who doesn't deserve it."

"Hold on," Meredith said. "Are you telling me I'm going to shoot up the place like Gary Clark? Kill my colleagues?"

"No, of course not. I'm saying that you are going to snap, Meredith… maybe the person you punish will be yourself. Maybe it will be your husband or your family… but one way or another, one person cannot continue to live like this, hiding from complex trauma. You have to process it or else you will self-destruct and I know you know this. You've said the same thing to patients of your own."

Meredith's mouth flew open; she was prepared to scream at her shrink for suggesting such a thing but then Meredith stopped. She hesitated, and for the first time since beginning trauma therapy, she considered what Wyatt was saying. She was speaking the truth and Meredith knew it. It was just so much harder than anyone, even Wyatt, could comprehend.

"I can't do that," Meredith admitted.

"And why not?"

"Because… because Derek needs me. Derek needs me and… and Lexie needs me and sooner or later, Cristina is going to break and she'll need me. I'm the strong one. I have to be there for everyone else."

Wyatt's face relaxed; it was like she had been waiting for Meredith to say this for weeks… and she probably had been doing exactly that. She smiled again, sadly. "Did someone tell you that? Or is that something you figured out by yourself?"

"Both. When Derek proposed, back in 2010, he told me that that was what made me who I am… that that's why he loves me," Meredith whispered. "He said… _when there's a crisis, you don't freeze. You move forward. You get the rest of us to move forward because you've seen worse. You've survived worse and you know that we'll survive, too._

"And then after the shooting, I… I was okay, relatively speaking. I was the one that held everyone else up. How was I okay after a mass-shooting where thirteen people died but I'm not okay now, after a plane crash, when no one died?"

"It doesn't matter," Wyatt said. "It doesn't matter if or why you're not okay. You're not okay, and you admitting that, Meredith, is a huge step in itself."

Meredith did not say anything. She just sat there, staring at the ground.

"So tell me," Wyatt continued. "Is this about Derek? Do you feel like he won't love you anymore if you admit that you're traumatized?"

"I… no," Meredith said and that was not a lie. "No, I… I think that Derek would love me no matter what but that's not the point. The point is… he was not okay. After the shooting, he was beyond depressed and traumatized and I can't let him go through that again. He'll worry about me… obsessively… constantly."

Wyatt nodded. "How do you think Derek would feel if you expressed all this to him?"

"I don't even want to think about that," Meredith said. "He would blame himself… he still blames himself for the shooting, I think, because he was the one that Gary Clark was originally targeting."

"Tell me about the aftermath of the shooting, Meredith. I know Derek was going through a lot but what were you going through? How did you cope?"

Meredith shrugged. "I… I didn't, really. I mean, I didn't really feel the need to… I wasn't traumatized like everyone else. The main thing I was upset about was my miscarriage. I was pregnant and I lost my baby during the shooting."

"So how did you cope with that? How did you cope with your miscarriage? With seeing your husband get shot?" Wyatt pressed.

"I don't know," Meredith said. "I just… I took care of Derek and Cristina. That's what I do; I'm a healer. I take care of others and eventually, I'm okay, too, but it's not working this time. It's not working so I just… I need you to tell me what to do."

There was a long pause. Meredith's chest was heaving up and down with anxiety but she was breathing; she was not going to lose it. The tears in her eyes were helpful; they made the therapy office blurry and prevented Meredith from having to look Wyatt in the face.

Wyatt, who had entirely set aside her legal pad and directed everything towards Meredith. "I can't do that, sweetheart. I'm sorry but I'm sure you know… I can't just give you the answers. I don't have all the answers."

"Well, then… can you refill my clonazepam?"

"Not yet. If this continues, we may reach that point but Meredith, you've already been shoving all of your feelings down. You need to let some of them out and if that means having a panic attack in front of Derek, then so be it. Besides, you've tapered off the benzos, haven't you?"

Meredith shook her head. "N-No, p-please… I'll do anything. I won't abuse them. I'll just… when absolutely necessary… when I feel like I'm going to die."

"Have you been feeling like you want to die?"

"I… no, I'm not suicidal," Meredith said and that, too, was the truth.

"Then you need to be honest. Be honest with Derek and with your other loved ones. Tell them how you feel. Derek wasn't shot this time. He can handle himself."

Derek was not shot this time but it was so much more complicated than that. Derek was dealing with Mark… with his injured hand… with the trauma from the shooting and his father's death. Derek had cried after his first therapy appointment with Rehmani; that said something.

"I'm sorry, I… I can't do anymore today," Meredith said.

"That's perfectly fine. You made a lot of progress today, Meredith; I'm proud of you," Wyatt said. "I'm going to give you an assignment for our next session, alright? Do you think you can do some homework for me?"

Meredith nodded shortly. "I… I'll try."

"Okay… I want you to write down ten words for me… five words that come to your mind when you think of the plane crash and five words that come to your mind when you think of the shooting."

"The shooting? I… I thought we were focusing on the plane crash…"

"We are but we're also focusing on the shooting because unless I am mistaken, you never truly dealt with your trauma from the shooting," Wyatt said. "We don't have to tackle everything all at once. Just write down a few words and we'll go from there."

"Ten words," Meredith clarified and Wyatt nodded.

"Ten words. And if you can, Meredith, although I know I cannot force this upon you, I would highly suggest you have a discussion with Derek. Tell him how you're feeling. Bring him to our next session, if he's willing… I think some couple's therapy would do you two good."

"Okay…" Couple's therapy was usually something that people did when their marriage was on the brink of failure. It was not something that Meredith could ever imagine needing, not with Derek, but she was evidently not an expert in this field.

By the time that she made it out of Wyatt's office, it was past noon and Meredith was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. All of the emotion that she had kept bottled up in her chest for the past month was beginning to seep its way out and Meredith was not sure if she needed to cry or drink heavily.

All Meredith knew was that she could not make it much farther without having a panic attack so she locked herself into the first bathroom she could find and hyperventilated.

_Dammit, _she thought to herself. _After all that, you would think I could at least get some damn clonazepam…_

Meredith was still breathing heavily when the pager attached to her jeans went off. She reached for it, curious… Wyatt had not given her permission to start working. Why would someone inside the hospital be paging Meredith?

Her explanation flashed onto the screen and it was the worst case scenario… Mark was paging Meredith 911 to Lexie's ICU room.

_This is it. My sister is dying,_ Meredith realized; she scooped herself off the toilet and began sprinting down the hallway. She skipped the elevators; they were too slow… Meredith jumped down the stairs, two at a time, and only stopped at the ICU entrance when she nearly ran straight into Mark.

"Is she… is she gone?" Meredith asked, unsure whether or not she wanted him to answer.

"What? No," Mark said although his face was pale white and strained with anxiety. "I just came down here for an update and your dad just about killed me."

"They still don't want to let you in?"

"No, it's not even that. They let me come into the room for a little bit and talk to her. Your dad's just really mad at… you, I guess. He says you haven't been around at all for the past week and that you need to have some kind of discussion with him about Lexie's end-of-life wishes."

"Oh… I didn't realize he was planning on including me in that type of thing," Meredith said.

"Well, apparently he is and I was talking with him, too, so I figured we could all do this together. Don't worry, I'll defend you if things get too ugly."

"It's okay. It's my dad; I'm used to it," Meredith said but she did stick close to Mark as the duo walked down the ICU corridor, towards Lexie's quarters.

Thatcher and Molly were waiting, alongside Owen and Nelson who had been Lexie's primary caregivers. Lexie herself looked exactly as she had a week ago… pale, lifeless, breathing only because of the machines connected to her heart and lungs. Her appearance was expected; Meredith would have been more surprised if Lexie's condition had changed but seeing her brilliant sister like this still shredded another layer of Meredith's broken heart.

Everyone had been talking at a rapid pace yet when Mark and Meredith arrived, the room suddenly went eerily quiet… or at least it did until Molly perked up. "Where have you been?! Dad's been trying to get a hold of you for over a week!"

"I… I'm sorry; Derek hasn't been doing well so I've been spending a lot of time with him. Mark's been keeping me updated," Meredith said and she gently nudged Mark in the back of the leg so he would know to play along.

"Yeah, but at least Derek is conscious and out of the hospital. Lexie could be dying; don't you think she's a little more important right now?"

Previously, Molly's communication with Meredith had been civil, even pleasant. Where had this accusatory tone come from? Meredith backed up. "I… excuse me, but you have a husband, too, correct? You must understand what it's…"

"Yes, I do understand," Molly interjected. "I have a husband that I love very much and I haven't seen him in over a month because I've been here with Lexie, constantly. Do you know why? Because I know she would do the exact same thing for me. Until Monday, I hadn't seen my children in a month either but those were sacrifices I was willing to make because Lexie needs me!"

"Okay, okay," Mark said, stepping between the two sisters. "Look, Meredith's here now and this isn't what we need to be talking about, anyway. Let's get on with it; we can play family feud later."

"Thank you, Dr. Sloan," Nelson said and he took a deep breath. "Alright, Grey family… so here is the dilemma. As you know, Alexandra suffered an intracerebral hemorrhage last Monday and ever since, we have witnessed minimal activity in her brain. Medically speaking, she is not braindead but there still is not much chance of her ever waking-up and regaining normal neurological function."

"Yeah, we know all that, Doc," Thatcher whimpered.

"Right, er… well, our Chief of Surgery, Dr. Hunt has researched all of Alexandra's advanced-care directives in her employee file but unfortunately, the only thing we were really able to find is that she appointed her father, Mr. Thatcher Grey as her healthcare proxy. I'm not saying this is the end; there are still a hundred different things that could change in terms of Alexandra's outlook but Dr. Hunt and I agree it is time that you guys start talking, as a family… about options."

"But it's ultimately my decision," Thatcher said. "I mean, I'm her dad… she chose me as her proxy. It's ultimately up to me what we do."

Nelson was looking more uncomfortable by the second so Owen took over. "Yes, it is ultimately your choice, Mr. Grey but like Dr. Nelson said, this is a big decision. One way or another, we encourage you to accept feedback from your other family members."

Meredith barely withheld an eye roll. Thatcher had not intended to include her in this conversation at all. He had been forced to have her here, by Owen and Nelson.

"Okay, well… I'll talk about this with Molly and Meredith," Thatcher agreed. "But this Sloan fellow… he isn't Lexie's family. I don't understand why he gets to be here."

"I love Lexie," Mark stated, so proudly and firmly that Meredith could not help but admire him. "I… I don't know if she loves me back and if she doesn't, that's fine. I'm not going to try and intrude on your family. But I am a doctor and I do care about Lexie and Meredith so if you don't mind, I would really like to stay and listen."

Perhaps there was nothing that Thatcher could say to that because he simply shrugged and went quiet. It was Molly who took over for her father, her voice once again weak and emotional. "Okay, um… so… Dr. Nelson and Dr. Hunt, if you had to give us a percentage… how likely do you think it is that Lexie will wake-up?"

"It really is hard to say. Every case, every patient is different," Owen said. "Lexie is young and healthy, so I would say that gives her an advantage but… the minimal brain activity is concerning."

Nelson nodded in agreement. "Yes, I deal with cases like Alexandra's on a daily basis. I'm a neurosurgeon; I deal with strokes, with brain-death in patients of every age. Personally, I think that even if Alexandra does wake-up, it would be unwise to expect any kind of cognitive function from her."

"So basically she'll be a vegetable," Meredith summarized.

"We don't know that for sure but… yes, that is what I anticipate, if Alexandra awakens at all," Nelson said.

At this, Thatcher collapsed into a nearby chair, sobbing uncontrollably. This behavior was not new, when it came to her father, so Meredith ignored him.

Molly was clutching Thatcher's hand but her attention was concentrated on her eldest sister. "Meredith, your husband is a neurosurgeon, right? You've worked with him on some cases. Have you ever had a patient that you thought was braindead wake-up and… and not be a vegetable?"

It would be easy to say no; Meredith wanted to say no because she knew that the odds of this happening to Lexie were slim to none but she was tired of lying. "I… well, there was this one patient during my intern year…"

"What happened?" Molly pressed, her eyes sparked with excitement.

"I… I don't know. From what I remember, he had some kind of accident and was braindead. His family had him transferred to a long term facility and seventeen years later, he fell out of bed so they brought him here. I noticed some movement in his eyes, Derek injected him with a stimulant, and… and he woke-up. But that's really rare and I think that patient still ended up dying from a brain bleed."

"But that was just because he fell out of bed," Molly assumed. "We wouldn't let that happen to Lexie. She could wake-up, Dad! She would wake-up years from now and I mean… that would still be bad but it would be better than nothing."

Hope had weaved a path into Thatcher's eyes. "Y-Yeah, it would… I… I think we should keep her just the way she is. What do you guys think?"

"Dad, um… what happened to that patient… it's a one in a million type of thing. Maybe even one in a hundred million. I'm not saying that we should just give up on her but trust me, dying in slow motion… that's much harder than dying quickly."

"How would you know? You've never died."

_Technically, I have; my heart stopped during my intern year when I drowned,_ Meredith thought but she did not say that. She sighed. "No, but I see stuff like this on a weekly basis. Families that opt to keep their loved ones on life support… it almost never ends well and it's much more emotionally-taxing for everyone."

"Do you know what would be emotionally-taxing? Losing my daughter," Thatcher said.

"Yeah, and it sounds like Lexie still has a chance. Why would we give up on her when she still has a chance?" Molly added.

Mark stepped forward. "Look, I don't think Meredith is suggesting anything. She just wants to make sure you have all your information down before making a decision and so do I."

"What would you suggest, Dr. Sloan?" Molly asked.

"I… I mean, personally, if it was me, I would want thirty days and I told Meredith the same thing the other day. If any patient is going to wake-up in this situation, it's typically going to happen within the first thirty days. After that, people tend to go septic. Their organs start to fail. Give Lexie some time and give yourselves some time to come to terms with everything and if nothing has improved, then…"

Mark trailed off but everyone appeared to have gotten the message. Molly wiped at her eyes and Thatcher was going a bit green. "And that's… that's thirty days since when, the plane crash? Because we've already surpassed that."

"I would say thirty days from when Lexie had her stroke so we would be on day nine," Mark said.

"No," Thatcher said; he shook his head, violently. "No, I'm not doing this. I'm not limiting Lexie to just twenty more days! She could wake-up a month from now… a year from now!"

"Dad, it's highly unlikely that Lexie is going to wake-up at all and if she does, you heard Dr. Nelson; she's probably going to be a vegetable," Meredith said.

"So what do you think we should do? What's your professional opinion, Dr. Grey?" Thatcher sneered.

Part of Meredith wanted to flee or to insult her father. She managed to swallow her pride, though, and respond calmly. "I… well, if it was me, I wouldn't want any extraordinary measures. I would not want to risk being a vegetable and I would not want to put Derek through that. In this situation, I… I think you have to think about the quality of life, rather than the quantity."

"You would just want to be unplugged, here and now?" Mark clarified.

"I… I would, if it was me," Meredith said.

"Well, it's not you. It's Lexie and I can guarantee you that Lexie wants to live," Molly claimed. "She does not want us to give up hope because she always talks about the odds and how the odds are crap. I mean, our mom died of the hiccups. Lexie wants us to keep trying. She wants us to fight for her and… and isn't any quality of life better than… no life at all?"

"It definitely is," Thatcher said. "You said it yourself, Meredith. You said people come out of comas after thirty days. That one guy woke-up after seventeen years. How can you stand there and even suggest that we unplug Lexie when you know she could still wake-up? How would you feel if Lexie was going to wake-up a month from now but she didn't get that chance because you killed her?!"

Mark stood up, like he was going to defend Meredith but before he got that opportunity, Meredith was yelling. "Hey! Even if we did unplug Lexie, that would not be killing her. That would simply be letting nature take its course. If Lexie really is as healthy as you think, unplugging the ventilator wouldn't do anything! She would just keep breathing on her own and maybe eventually wake-up!"

There was another hiatus. Molly and Thatcher glanced at one another and Meredith could feel Mark looking at her yet she did not respond to him. Every once of Meredith was working to keep the bile in her stomach where it belonged.

Finally, Molly took charge. "Okay, I… I think the only reasonable thing to do is to keep Lexie on the ventilator for now. Anything else, we might regret down the road but if Lexie's on the ventilator, I mean… we can still make changes later."

"Make changes? No, we're not going to make any damn changes," Thatcher demanded. "We are going to keep my daughter alive for as long as it takes! I lost Susan; I'm not losing her, too!"

This was too much. It was too much a long time ago, but Thatcher had crossed the line and Meredith could take it no longer. "Look, you need to take some time and think about this. Trust me, I know you want to do everything possible to save Lexie and I do, too, but you have an entire room of doctors advising you on what to do and you are choosing to ignore everything we say!"

"Stop it, Meredith; Dad's not doing that at all. You literally just told him that you've seen people wake-up from vegetative states…"

"And I never should have said that!" Meredith screamed at Molly.

"Why not?! It's true, isn't it? If it's true, then why wouldn't we try to save her?!" Molly was shaking her head, torn between a state of shock and doubt. "Meredith, I've tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. I've tried to give you a chance because Lexie always talked about how much she loves you but since I've been here, you have not done one thing that suggests you even care about Lexie."

"THAT'S BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T!" Thatcher bellowed, spit flying from his mouth in rage. "ADMIT IT, MEREDITH; YOU DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT LEXIE BECAUSE JUST LIKE ALWAYS, YOU BLAME HER FOR BEING THE PERFECT DAUGHTER I DIDN'T ABANDON! WELL, WHY DO YOU THINK THAT IS?! IT'S BECAUSE LEXIE'S SMARTER, KINDER, AND A BETTER PERSON THAN YOU'LL EVER BE!"

Owen darted forward to separate the Grey family. "Okay, look… you need to calm down, Mr. Grey. I'm sorry but this is the ICU and there are very sick people here…"

"I KNOW THERE'S SICK PEOPLE HERE! LOOK AT LEXIE; LOOK AT MY DAUGHTER! SHE'S SICK! SHE NEEDS HELP AND ALL YOU PEOPLE WILL TALK ABOUT IS KILLING HER! ADMIT IT, MEREDITH, YOU WANT TO KILL HER!"

"Mr. Grey, if you don't get yourself under control, I will have to call security…"

"Yeah, come on, Mer," Mark said; he swung a protective, brotherly arm around Meredith's shoulders and guided her away from the scene.

"GET HER THE HELL OUTTA HERE!" Thatcher continued screaming. "SHE WANTS TO KILL MY LEXIE AND I'M NOT GONNA ALLOW IT!"

They were almost free; they were nearly out of range when suddenly, Meredith charged back into the room, against her better judgement.

"Meredith, no!" Mark warned but she was not listening.

"I GAVE YOU MY LIVER! Do you think I did that for you?! Do you think I did that because I cared about you?! No, if you dropped dead right now, my world probably wouldn't be any different!"

"My God, Meredith, what's wrong with you?!" Molly gasped.

"I did that for Lexie! I put myself through major abdominal surgery because I loved Lexie and I didn't want to see her go all dark and twisty. I loved Lexie and I will continue loving her long after she's gone and you know it!"

"Well, maybe she's not going to die, Meredith! Why do you keep insisting she's going to die?!" Molly pressed.

"Because she is going to die! Everyone else has accepted it except for you two! She is going to die and the only difference is that you guys are forcing her to die in slow motion. You are dragging out the process for everyone and I'm not okay with that!" Meredith explained.

"AND YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE OKAY WITH IT!" Thatcher shouted; his face was bright red and if it was not for Owen, Nelson, and Mark, he likely would have charged at his eldest daughter a long time ago. "I'M THE PROXY! I GET TO MAKE THE DECISIONS HERE! YOU GET TO SHUT THE HELL UP AND GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER BEFORE I SNATCH THE REST OF YOUR LIVER STRAIGHT OUT OF YOUR BODY!"

"Oh, so now you're threatening me?"

"YOU THREATENED LEXIE FIRST! YOU THREATENED TO KILL HER, TO UNPLUG HER!"

"That's it," Owen said. He grabbed his overhead pager from his scrub pocket and spoke into it: _"Security to the ICU, STAT! Security to the ICU, STAT!"_

"We're leaving," Mark said. He secured a better grip on Meredith and forcibly hauled her out of Lexie's room and down the hallway.

He did not let go until they were in a nearby conference room and even then, Meredith was agitated so Mark blocked the door with his body. "Meredith, stop! Let it go. You're only going to make things worse."

"He's never going to unplug her! He's going to keep her on that damn vent until the end of time!"

"Maybe he is and maybe he isn't but right now, we've got to stop thinking about it," Mark said. "You're only going to hurt yourself if you keep this up. You're going to hurt both of us."

Growling with rage, Meredith spun around and kicked over the first chair that she encountered. Her ribs instantly throbbed with pain.

"Damn," Mark sighed. "For someone so tiny, you really are powerful."

"I LOVE LEXIE! YOU KNOW I LOVE HER, RIGHT?!"

"Of course I know that, Mer. If you didn't love her so much, you wouldn't be fighting for her like this."

_That's right; someone gets it,_ Meredith figured but it was all a lost cause now. So much for all of the progress she had made in therapy with Dr. Wyatt this morning… everything had gone to hell in a handbag.

"Okay," Mark said once it appeared that Meredith had calmed down. "Okay, are you stable? You're not going to run off and kill your dad, right?"

"Not unless it's self-defense…"

"Right, and that's legal so I don't have a problem with that. It's not like Lexie is going to wake-up and be mad at you. Do you want me to call Derek? It seems like, uh… you could use him, at a time like this."

"No, Derek can't drive by himself. Alex is up here somewhere; he's cleaning out his locker. I'll talk to him and maybe go back to Dr. Wyatt for a while."

"Okay," Mark repeated. "Are you sure I can't do anything?"

"Yeah, no… I'm sure. I'm okay," Meredith said. "Go ahead and find Callie or whoever it was that brought you up here. I'm sure you could… use a friend, too."

Apparently that was true because Mark did not argue; he left the conference room as soon as possible, dialing someone's number on his phone as he went. Meredith got up and followed him, but she did not go to the psychiatric floor or to find Alex. There was only one thing, at this point, that Meredith felt capable of doing.

She paced out into the parking lot, got into her Lexus, and sped away from Seattle Grace. She drove past the Emerald City Bar, past the house that contained Derek and Zola, and to the complete other side of Seattle where she parked outside a random bar.

Meredith had no idea what time it was but after the day she had had, that was insignificant information. Meredith could be dubbed as an alcoholic for all she cared… she needed liquor and she needed it now.

The joint she had chosen was relatively big; it was much larger than Joe's place and Meredith knew that she would not be discovered by any of the Seattle Grace staff here. She hauled herself up onto a bar stool and got the attention of the bartender. "Hey… I need a shot of 1800 Tequila, please… actually, I need about ten shots."

"Rough day?" the bartender guessed as he poured Meredith's first drink.

"You have no idea."

_**Thank you so much for reading! I know I have been saying this forever but I PROMISE things will get happier soon. Don't forget to favorite/follow and review if you hate Thatcher Grey as much as I do because that gives me motivation to continue writing. And stay tuned because the next chapter is going to have LOTS of MerDer comfort! Love you all so much. Xoxo, merderpedia :) **_


	28. Help, I'm Alive

_**Author's Note- Hi, everyone! Here is Chapter 28 of Meant to Be. The first half of this chapter is from Derek's POV and the second half is from Meredith's POV. I'm not going to lie… this chapter is very dramatic and angsty. But, while I don't want to make any promises, this should be the last super angsty chapter and even though it is dramatic, I do promise this will be a big turning point in this story. Enjoy?! **_

When Derek woke-up, the other side of the bed was empty. Meredith had said that she was going to be at the hospital late, spending time with Lexie, but she had never mentioned anything about remaining there overnight. Yawning heavily, Derek reached over and silenced the screaming alarm clock and then grabbed his phone from where it was charging.

It was 7:30 in the morning. Derek and the other plane crash victims were due at the hospital for a conference with Bayview Aeronautics in a mere hour and a half. There was a small amount of time to spare, though, so he sent a text to Meredith: _Where are you? Are you still with Lexie?_

When Meredith did not reply for over fifteen minutes, Derek called his wife, too, but there was no answer.

Perhaps she had fallen asleep in an on-call room. That was alright; Derek would just have to hitch a ride to the meeting by himself. He got up, changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and combed a bit of his favorite product through his hair. Everything was harder with one of Derek's hands being immobile so he did the bare minimum. Hair gel, to some degree, was necessary, though; otherwise, Derek would be sporting a giant afro.

He had barely finished dressing Zola in a red sundress, the easiest outfit he could locate when the door to one of the spare bedrooms flew open. Alex Karev walked out, carrying a backpack and his car keys. "Oh… hey, Shepherd."

"Hey, Karev. Are you heading out today?"

"Yeah, that's the plan but I need to go up to the hospital one more time and say a few goodbyes. Where's Mer?"

"That is a very good question," Derek said. "I don't know; she didn't come home last night. I'm guessing there were some kind of complications with Lexie and she didn't want to worry me."

Karev nodded; he did not appear particularly concerned. "Yeah, probably… you know Meredith; she likes her private time."

That was true. All the same, Derek called Karev back as he began to walk away. "Hey, wait a sec. You're going to the hospital? Mind giving me a lift? I'm supposed to be up there for the meeting with the airline at 9:00."

"Oh, right," Karev said. "Yeah, but we'll have to take your car. Mine is loaded up with all my shit and I don't have a carseat for Zola anymore."

Ten minutes later, Zola had been fed a quick breakfast and Derek retrieved his keys. The two men hit the road. It was an awkward drive; Derek was virtually never around Karev without Meredith present. He had called her twice more since getting out of bed and left messages yet there was no response.

_She's probably fine. She's probably asleep in an on-call room or sitting with Lexie,_ Derek told himself a thousand times. Everyone's anxiety had increased since the plane crash, though, and it was hard not to wonder if Meredith had crashed her new Lexus on the way home last night.

_No, that's stupid,_ Derek thought. _You would have been contacted if anything happened to Meredith; you're her healthcare proxy._

Still, it was becoming easier for Derek to understand why Meredith had been so worried after the shooting when he was going on joy rides in his Porsche. The world was a dangerous place.

"Do you need me to help with anything? Want me to take Zola to daycare?" Karev asked when they arrived at Seattle Grace.

"Er… yeah, actually, that would be great," Derek said and handed his daughter off to Karev, along with her diaper bag. "And call me if you run into Meredith. Make sure you don't jet off to Hopkins without saying goodbye to her."

"Nah, I'm not that stupid," Karev chuckled and headed off in the daycare's general direction.

It felt strange to walk the halls of Seattle Grace alone. Derek had not done this since before the plane crash. If he did not know better, it would have seemed like an ordinary day at work. Derek would have gone to get report from the neurosurgeon on-call and read about his upcoming procedures.

There was no saying if Derek was ever going to do that again. And that was something he had to accept. Surgery was special, but there were more important aspects of life. Derek knew, as he took the elevator to the fourth floor, that he was lucky to be alive at all.

The conference room where the meeting was scheduled to take place was located directly outside of the ICU. Derek was early; it was only 8:45 when he entered the den but there were already quite a few individuals waiting. Two representatives were here, or at least who Derek assumed were the representatives of Seattle Grace and Bayview Aeronautics because he did not recognize them, along with Callie and Mark.

"Derek!" Callie squealed as the neurosurgeon took a seat at the table. "I've missed you so much! How are you?"

"I… I'm alright, I guess," Derek smiled. "I've missed you, too. How's Arizona?"

"Well, I mean… I'm representing her today, if that tells you anything. She's still not doing too great but she starts physical therapy soon so I'm sure that'll help."

Derek nodded. He had recently heard the news that Arizona had gone septic and as a result, her leg had to be amputated. It was sad. Worse, though, was the fact that Derek had learned the truth over Facebook. Meredith claimed to have not known either but part of Derek could not help but wonder if his wife had been attempting to shield him from anything negative. He made a mental note to talk with Meredith about that in more depth, once the conference was over.

"Hey, neither of you have seen Meredith yet today, have you?" Derek asked his friends. The time was ticking by; it was 8:52 and Meredith had yet to make an appearance.

Callie shook her head, casually. Mark's face turned completely pale. "Hold on… Meredith didn't come home last night?"

"No, she texted me around 4:00 and said she was going to be late because there were complications or something with Lexie but she didn't say anything about staying all night," Derek said. "Were you up here yesterday? What was going on?"

Mark's mouth was hanging open; it was like he had seen a ghost. He scooted the swivel chair he was resting in around the table, closer to Derek. "Are you being serious right now? You didn't hear about what happened yesterday?"

"I… no, I didn't. Is something wrong?" Derek was growing considerably more anxious.

"Rambo called all of us into Lexie's room yesterday afternoon," Mark explained. "He said it was time to talk about options… you know, as far as life support."

Derek felt like someone had punched him in the chest. _Poor Lexie… poor Meredith._ "Oh, God…"

"Yeah, but that's not all. Meredith talked about how she wouldn't want any extraordinary measures done if it was her. Her dad totally lost it… said she didn't care about Lexie and that she wanted to kill her. The other sister, Molly, accused Meredith of all this shit. Rambo ended up having to call security; they were about ready to attack each other, I think."

Derek abruptly leapt to his feet; there was no time to waste. He needed to find Meredith and he needed to find her now. Right as he was about to sprint out of the conference room, though, the door opened and Thatcher Grey walked inside, closely followed by Owen Hunt.

"Okay, everybody; are we ready to do this?" Hunt said. "Mr. Thatcher Grey is here to represent his daughter, Lexie. I'm representing my wife, Cristina Yang and Callie is here for Arizona. Derek, are you going to represent both yourself and Meredith?"

"No, Meredith is supposed to be here. Has no one seen her?"

A piercing silence filled the air; Hunt's face flushed red, as if he was embarrassed. "I… no, I haven't, not since last night. We can wait a few minutes, if you'd like, but not too long. We're paying our representative by the hour."

"No one has seen Meredith Grey at all since we were in the ICU yesterday?" Mark clarified, more loudly and Derek flashed his friend a weak smile of thanks.

"No, I… I haven't but I was with Arizona all last night," Callie said. "What's going on? Is she maybe with Lexie?"

Thatcher Grey lurched to his feet and nearly fell over. His eyes were glassy, his feet unsteady, and when he spoke, his words were slurring together. The supposedly recovering alcoholic had obviously relapsed. "N-NO, SHE'S NOT WITH LEXIE! M-MEREDITH IS… IS BANNED, FOREVER FROM… FROM GOING NEAR LEXIE!"

"Mr. Grey, please… let's try and calm down," Hunt requested. "Okay, well… Derek, why don't we get started here? I'll pass the word onto the nurses that we're looking for Meredith; they can page her…"

Derek shook his head. "No, I've tried calling her a hundred times already and I'm sorry but I don't feel comfortable doing this without her. We need to go look for her; we need to find her."

It was unbelievable the way that everyone was acting. Hunt was monitoring the clock, the representatives were growing impatient, and Thatcher was a fuse, ready to blow. Meredith was missing. She was supposed to be here and she was missing. If everything Mark said was true, and it appeared to be, the way that Thatcher was acting, there was no saying where Meredith could have run off to… she was almost certainly not at the hospital.

"So what, we're not doing this today?!" Thatcher said, throwing his arms in the air. "You're gonna bring us all up here and then call it off because… why, because my careless daughter decided to go MIA?"

"Okay, listen…" Derek had no idea what he was going to do but Thatcher was not going to get away with this, drunk or sober.

And then suddenly, the door to the conference room flew open and a thin, blonde woman stumbled her way over to the table. It was Meredith. She practically looked like she had been in another plane crash… her hair was a mess, her eyes were glazed over, and she was in the same clothes that she had left the house in yesterday morning.

"Meredith!" Derek gasped. "What happened; where have you been?"

"I'm… I'm here," Meredith announced and hiccupped loudly. She was swaying awkwardly as she walked and having a difficult time keeping her eyes open. It appeared that she, too, was drunk.

Derek rushed over to his wife and put his good arm around Meredith's back to steady her. "Shh, you're okay. Just come sit down next to me. Are you hurt?"

Meredith did not reply. Derek glanced around, desperate for someone's assistance but everybody, the representatives and the doctors, were simply staring at the intoxicated woman. Thatcher's mouth was hanging open in shock.

Meredith stopped walking, turned towards Derek, and muttered, "I… I don't… feel good."

"Okay, let's sit down…" Derek started but he was too late. Meredith doubled over and projectile vomited onto the table, onto the floor, and onto Derek.

"Mer, Mer, Mer," Derek soothed; he grabbed as much of his wife's hair as he could reach and pulled it away from her face as she regurgitated more stomach content onto the floor. "Shh, Mer… you're okay. Breathe… you're okay; I'm right here…"

She was retching uncontrollably and then Meredith was unable to withstand her own weight any longer. She collapsed forward; Derek barely managed to save her from plummeting into a pool of her own vomit. One of his arms was useless, though, and Derek again looked around for help; his eyes landed on Mark. "Can you help?! Please?!"

"I… yeah, of course, man," Mark said; he jumped up and Derek gently transferred Meredith from her awkward, downward position into Mark's arms.

"Let's just… let's get her sitting down," Derek instructed.

Mark nodded and eased Meredith into the closest swivel chair. "There you go… you're okay. Do you know where you are, Meredith?"

She was undoubtedly confused but Meredith responded to Mark's question and that had to be a good sign. "Yeah, I… I came, r-right? I came to… the… the m-meeting…"

"Yes, you did. I'm very proud of you," Derek said. More than anything, he was confused but this was not the time to ask Meredith for an explanation. Right now, they just needed to postpone this stupid conference and get Meredith down to the emergency room for some fluids and Zofran.

He found Hunt's face among the crowd of hovering individuals. "We need to move this to next week sometime. Go find a wheelchair; she's really sick."

"I… okay," Hunt agreed. "Torres, go find a chair and page the ER; tell them we're coming with Dr. Grey."

Callie did as she was told. As she left, there were another, heavier set of footsteps from behind. Derek looked up and saw Thatcher Grey, who had overcome his state of shock and stumbled over to check on his eldest daughter.

"She's alright, Mr. Grey," Derek insisted. He wanted to say a lot more; he wanted to comment on Thatcher's irrational behavior but now was not the moment for that. No one needed to focus on anything except for Meredith and her health.

Meredith, who had begun gagging heavily again… Derek was stunned, himself, at how quickly her symptoms had progressed… five minutes ago, when Meredith had arrived at the meeting, there were no traces of vomit on her being. Now, she was spewing solid alcohol onto herself. Derek ran behind his wife to hold her hair back and barked orders at Mark. "Is there a trash can somewhere?! Can we get something, an emesis basin?!"

"There's a trash can over here," Hunt said; he passed it to Mark who handed the thing to Derek, who placed it in front of Meredith who was continuing to dehydrate herself.

"She's drunk," Thatcher said quietly, as if he had just now realized.

_And so are you,_ Derek thought to himself, although he did not mention this aloud. "She's been under a lot of stress between dealing with Lexie and dealing with me… she runs for the tequila when she's overwhelmed."

Meredith paused, briefly, from her act of being physically sick. Derek stroked her hair with his good hand and kissed her on top of the head. "How are you feeling? Do you feel better now that you've gotten some of that out?"

"I… I d-don't…"

Meredith never received the opportunity to finish answering. In one split second, a large, towering man charged forward from the right, his voice booming with fury. "YOU DON'T THINK I'M UNDER A LOT OF STRESS?! ONE OF MY DAUGHTERS IS ON LIFE SUPPORT AND MY OTHER DAUGHTER WANTS TO KILL HER! I SURE AS HELL WISH I COULD RUN FOR THE TEQUILA BUT I CAN'T DO THAT CAUSE I'M A R-RECOVERING ALCOHOLIC AND I'VE GOT TO STAY SOBER, NO MATTER WHAT!"

"Thatcher, I can smell the scotch on your breath…" Derek started but he was not given the chance to finish either; before Derek knew what happened, two angry arms shoved him up against the wall, and the world was spinning in dizzying waves.

A pair of strong arms caught him before he hit the floor; it was Mark. "HEY! You need to calm down; you don't get to just attack everyone like this because you're worried about Lexie! We're all worried about Lexie and Lexie wouldn't want this!"

"DON'T YOU TRY AND TELL ME WHAT LEXIE WOULD OR WOULDN'T WANT! I'VE KNOWN LEXIE A HELL OF A LOT LONGER THAN ANY OF YOU; I'VE KNOWN LEXIE HER WHOLE LIFE!" Thatcher screamed.

Owen connected with the overhead intercom. "Security to the fourth floor conference room, security to the fourth floor conference room!"

"LEXIE WOULD WANT ME TO PROTECT HER FROM ALL YOU MURDERERS!" Thatcher continued; his face was turning a brighter shade of red by the second. "YOU MURDERED MY WIFE AND NOW YOU'RE TRYING TO MURDER MY DAUGHTER AND THIS ONE… THIS ONE HAS THE NERVE TO SHOW UP FOR A MEETING COMPLETELY FUCKING WASTED WHEN HER OWN FATHER IS… A FUCKING RECOVERING ALCOHOLIC!"

Thatcher was pointing at Meredith, who appeared to be on the verge of losing consciousness. Derek's vision was slowly returning to normal; he sucked in a deep breath and pulled himself up from where Mark was awkwardly holding him.

"You okay?" the plastic surgeon asked, uncertain. "Don't fight him, Derek. He's not hurting anyone and he's not worth it. Security's on their way."

Almost as soon as Mark had uttered those words, though, the scene shifted. Thatcher's abuse was no longer purely verbal. Derek had not moved fast enough…

Thatcher Grey, who had been sober for almost three full years, charged at his daughter like a bulldozer. His fist made impact with Meredith's face and Derek had never hated anyone so much in his entire life… not Gary Clark, not Addison Montgomery, not the manwhore that had once been Mark Sloan…

The next thing that Derek knew, security was pulling him off of Thatcher Grey who was lying on the floor, knocked out. Callie, who had returned with a wheelchair, was screaming and the lawyers were huddled into a corner of the room, stunned silent.

"STOP IT! LOOK AT ME, BRO; CALM DOWN!" Mark shouted, and something about his tone made Derek think that Mark had been trying to get his friend's attention for quite some time.

Derek backed off, and in the process, became aware of a throbbing pain in his right hand. One of his knuckles had been split open. His heart was racing and Derek's ribs were aching; he had not even been cleared to drive yet, much less physically fight his father-in-law.

"Hey," Mark repeated and took hold of Derek's arms. "Derek, look at me. Breathe."

"I'm… I'm breathing," Derek said, gasping for air.

"Okay, you need to calm down. Don't worry; we have witnesses… everything you did to Thatcher was obviously to protect Meredith but we don't need to do anymore damage."

Derek looked down at Thatcher again, who was unconscious on the floor. Hunt had apparently gone to get some of the ICU nurses; they were planning to lift him onto a stretcher and take him to the ER, too. Meanwhile, Meredith was on the ground, as well, her eyes closed, a black eye already developing.

"Oh, God," Derek said and rushed over to his wife. "Meredith… Meredith, can you hear me?"

There was no answer. A sharp pain was creeping up Derek's chest; his throat was closing up as he searched for help. "M-Mark! Owen, somebody… Torres…"

"I'm here, man; what can I do?"

"Pick her up… I can't, my hands are a mess and get her outside on a gurney. Get her on the first gurney you see; she needs it more than Thatcher," Derek instructed.

Immediately, Mark obeyed. Both men accompanied the nurses as they pushed Meredith down the hallway towards the elevators and as they traveled, Derek noticed for the first time just how skinny his wife had become… Meredith had always been thin, but Derek could count her ribs through her t-shirt and she had had over a month to regain the weight that she lost during the plane crash.

Mark was staring at Meredith, too, a grim expression on his face. "She's not looking too great, bro."

"You don't think I know that?"

"No, I mean… yeah, it's pretty obvious. But I don't know… I've been with Meredith the last few days and I never realized how…"

"How skinny she is?" Derek guessed and Mark nodded. "Yeah, she… she's been taking care of everyone else. She's been taking care of me. She hasn't been taking care of herself."

It was heartbreaking, but Derek knew that it was the truth and he felt more guilty, more ashamed than ever. How had he allowed it to get this bad? Why had he not come to the hospital last night when Meredith said there had been complications regarding Lexie? Even if that excuse had been legitimate, Meredith would have needed somebody to comfort her… she would have needed Derek…

"Don't beat yourself up, man," Mark said, as if he was reading Derek's mind. "It's not your fault."

"Really? Then whose fault is it, Meredith's?"

"It's no one's fault… it's the plane's fault, or whoever was responsible for the damn plane crash in the first place. And we're working on figuring that out. That's why we're here, right? To sue the airline?"

Maybe that was the right way of thinking. Derek was attempting to be the cheerful optimist like he usually was, but it was proving itself extremely difficult. The ideal world that Derek had been living in, just over a month ago had crumbled beneath him. They were no longer moving to Boston. An emaciated version of Meredith was lying unconscious on a gurney… Derek might not ever operate again.

In the emergency room, Meredith and Derek were brought straight to triage. Mark offered to stay for support, but Derek sent him back up to the ICU. As little as he cared about Thatcher, someone needed to inform Molly of the recent turn of events and then someone would need to stay with Lexie while Molly tended to her father. Derek was not going anywhere though. He stayed directly next to his wife, holding her hand until Dr. Bailey arrived, her face pink from running.

"Oh my Lord," she whispered. It could not be a pretty sight. Not only was Meredith unconscious, but her face was swelling quickly and her clothes were soaked in vomit.

Derek's hand was bleeding and there was vomit on his pants, too, but none of that was a priority.

"We had our first meeting with the airline today," Derek explained when Bailey continued to stare. "Or we were supposed to, anyway… Mer didn't come home last night. She got drunk… she was throwing-up continuously upstairs and then Thatcher, her father, punched her… knocked her out. He was drunk, too… n-not… not that that's an… excuse but…"

Derek's voice was wavering dangerously so he trailed off. Bailey seemed to be at a loss for words, but she did manage to walk forward a few steps and place her hand on Derek's shoulder. "Don't you worry… Meredith has been taking good care of you this past month. Now it's your turn to be there for her. We'll…"

"...Do everything you can?" Derek finished, whimpering slightly.

"She'll be fine. You know we don't promise good outcomes here at Seattle Grace but I am promising you this… Dr. Grey will be just fine," Bailey said. "We're going to get her started on fluids and do some x-rays to make sure there's no facial fracture."

"Okay, and do a CT, too," Derek begged. "I… I know it's unlikely but I just… I don't want to take any chances. She hit her head hard on the floor when she fell."

"Of course, Dr. Shepherd."

"Miranda," Derek said and Bailey turned back around. "Please… I operated on your husband while there was an active bomb in the building. You witnessed the pathetic excuse for a human being that I was after the shooting. I think we've reached that stage where you can call me by my first name."

Bailey smiled, sadly. "Alright, then, Derek."

Unfortunately, neither Derek nor Dr. Shepherd were allowed to tag along for Meredith's routine tests. Although he was technically a Seattle Grace employee, Bailey had decided that the neurosurgeon was far too emotional to be in the audience.

Those minutes waiting for news were some of the longest of Derek's life. Perhaps it did not compare with that hour in 2009 when Meredith's heart had stopped beating, or the days following the shooting when Derek was immobile in the ICU, but this was not enjoyable. It was funny because most of Derek's brain remained logical and he knew that in all likelihood, Meredith was not in any immediate danger. She would be rehydrated and treated for a possible concussion and then she would be discharged. Everything would be fine.

Another part of Derek's brain, however, would not stop churning with anxiety. He should have recognized the signs earlier. Meredith had claimed to not care whether or not Cristina stayed in Seattle; that was not like her. Meredith kept talking about how she needed more clonazepam… obviously, she was feeling anxious. She had even gone out and purchased a brand-new Lexus, impulsively. That should have been a red flag; Derek remembered his own mindset when he had bought the Porsche.

Derek wondered if he should contact Cristina. It seemed like the kind of thing Meredith might want him to do… call _her person_. Last he heard, though, Derek's wife had been fighting with Cristina.

At the very least, Derek decided he needed to contact Karev before he left Seattle for good, and Meredith's psychiatrist, Dr. Wyatt. He paged them both to the ER.

Wyatt was likely with another patient because Karev arrived first. He looked confused and then once he saw Derek's bloody hand, concerned. "What's going on, Shepherd? Dammit, what happened to your other hand?"

"Thatcher Grey ran his face into it," Derek said. "But that's not why I paged you. It's Meredith."

"Oh, you found her? That's good cause I haven't been able to find her anywhere…"

"No, Karev… M-Meredith, she… she's the patient. She's off with Bailey right now, getting a CT and x-rays. Her dad… I don't know. I think her dad tried to kill her."

Karev's face went completely pale and for one split second, Derek thought that he, too, was going to pass out. The graduating resident steadied himself. "W-What?!"

"Yeah, I really don't know what happened. Meredith showed up to the meeting, she was drunk as hell… throwing-up repeatedly. Thatcher was drunk, too, but he wouldn't admit it and he just… I don't know. He snapped. He was saying all this shit about how Meredith is trying to kill Lexie because she doesn't want her to be hooked on life support forever."

"Well, yeah, I don't blame her. Lexie wouldn't want to be a vegetable," Karev said and frowned. "But hold on… is she okay?! Meredith, is she awake and… and talking?"

Derek shook his head. "Her dad punched her and she was knocked out right away. As far as I know, she hasn't woken up yet but I mean… I… I'm sure she will…"

"I wonder if anything's wrong with her liver," Karev said. "Didn't she donate that piece to her dad a few years ago? You're not really supposed to binge drink after that, are you?"

Derek had not even thought of that! He felt like his neurological function had been damaged; what else could explain the major chunks of information that were leaking from his brain? Derek groaned and rested his head in his damaged hands. "Oh, God… no, I mean… no, you're not. And I don't know if you've noticed but she's lost a lot of weight. That could affect her body's ability to digest alcohol."

"Yeah, she wasn't eating great when she was first discharged from the ICU but I thought that had gotten better by now. Hasn't she been in therapy?"

"She has been but I don't really know how it's been going. She's been… very closed off."

Karev nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I know. You should have seen her when she first got discharged, when you were still in the ICU. She was a wreck. I was afraid she was going to hurt herself."

How much was there that Derek did not know? How much had happened while he was in the ICU, oblivious to his surroundings? In 2011, after the shooting, Derek had missed the part where Meredith had had a miscarriage… in fact, he had missed the part where his wife had been pregnant at all, in the first place, until months later.

Throughout his entire life, Derek had considered himself to be a relatively good husband but right now, all he felt like was a failure. He shook his head in disbelief. "I… I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help."

"You don't need to apologize; you were recovering from freaking lung surgery," Karev snorted.

"I know but I… I feel like I've been missing a lot recently," Derek said. "What was Meredith doing back then, that was worrying you so much? Did she say anything about… not wanting to be here anymore?"

"No, and I asked her about that a thousand times just to be sure. She always denied everything. She was just… kind of catatonic. She would sit on the couch, staring at the television even when nothing was on… I had to forcibly give her baths. That first night, I woke-up in the middle of the night and she was standing over my bed… she said she didn't remember how she got there. She was scared to be alone so I let her lie down next to me… don't worry, nothing bad happened. We slept together but we didn't… sleep together."

In another lifetime, Derek might have gotten mad and accused Karev of taking advantage of his wife. That was obviously not the case, though. In fact, Derek was actually glad to hear that someone had been there, taking care of Meredith while he was hospitalized. He knew that there was nothing romantic or sexual about Meredith's relationship with Karev.

"Thank you for… for taking care of her."

"You don't need to thank me," Karev said. "I mean, she's my best friend. Everyone else has left… Cristina, Izzie, O'Malley… I know Meredith is your wife and I'm not trying to take anything away from you but… she's my best friend, too."

"I know," Derek said. "But what about you; aren't you leaving?"

"Well, I'm not now. Maybe I'll postpone again or maybe I'll just tell Hopkins to screw it but I can't leave now with Mer like this. And everytime I think I'm ready to leave, something ends up happening again… Arizona goes septic or Lexie has a stroke. Maybe it's not meant to be."

Derek smirked, sadly. "This really is Seattle Grace Mercy Death, isn't it?"

"It really is, but there's something about this place that just keeps everyone coming back and you can't say that about many hospitals. Not many hospitals have the camaraderie we do," Karev said and then paused, twisting his face into a repulsed expression. "God, that sounded so freaking soppy."

The two men shared a brief laugh together and Derek sighed. "I'll tell you what, Karev… I don't want to push you in either direction; this decision is ultimately up to you. But I know you want to settle down… I know you want to make something of yourself, by yourself… so if you do choose to stay in Seattle, just know that Meredith and I will be moving into the dream house here in a few weeks and when we do, I can speak for both of us when I say we would be happy to sell you the current house."

Karev blinked a few times; he was clearly not anticipating this. "Wait, seriously? Like, I wouldn't have to move out?"

"I mean, you might consider moving into the master bedroom; it's a lot bigger but yeah… you wouldn't have to rent a moving truck or anything. You could pocket the money that Hunt gives you for moving expenses."

"Not gonna lie, you've given me a lot to think about, Shepherd," Karev said. "Right when I thought I was never gonna like you, too…"

All of a sudden, the triage curtain was swept aside for a second time. Derek looked up, expecting to see Katherine Wyatt but instead, Bailey was back, and she was pushing a gurney that contained Meredith. The latter was still not awake, but she had not required intubation and that was a good sign.

"How is she?!" Derek and Karev both asked at the identical time.

"Everything looks clear," Bailey reported. "There's no bleeding, no broken bones, just some bad bruising on her face and a mild concussion. We did briefly sedate so we could do gastric lavage, get some of the excessive alcohol out of her system but she's being rehydrated and should be awake soon."

"What about her liver? How are her liver enzymes?" Derek pressed.

"Elevated, but nothing in the danger zone… don't worry, Derek. I know it was a scary moment but Meredith is going to be fine. You can take her home once she wakes up, in fact."

"Take her home?"

"If that's alright with you then yes, you can take her home," Bailey smiled. She was making jokes; evidently, she was under the impression that Derek was happy. And why should he be anything else when Meredith was stabilizing?

Derek was unsure what to say or do so he was grateful when Karev spoke up. "How about we wait until Dr. Wyatt gets down here? She might want to talk with Mer about everything… about Lexie and her dad and then we can make a decision from there."

"A decision? There is no reason why Meredith Grey needs to be hospitalized right now, Karev," Bailey said. "Unless there's something you're keeping from me?"

Karev shook his head. "No, there's not… but I think there might be something Meredith is keeping from all of us."

**MTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTB**

When Meredith was seven years old and in the first grade, she had contracted strep throat. The infection was a common one in elementary school children; according to Ellis Grey, there was no reason for her daughter to be worried but that did not stop Meredith from feeling completely and utterly miserable for almost a full week. She was sweating through her sheets one minute and shivering with chills the next… her head ached and her stomach was nauseous. Worst of all was the throat pain which was so severe that it was difficult, if not impossible for Meredith to swallow.

This felt something like that. Meredith was sick; she was dizzy and exhausted and thus far, she had not so much as opened her eyes. When she finally did manage to pull her heavy eyelids up, she realized that she was not lying in her own bed. She was in a hospital; she was at Seattle Grace in triage and Derek was sitting next to her, wearing navy attending scrubs.

What in the world happened?! Meredith tried to think back; she tried to remember what she had been doing before losing consciousness but everything was one big blur. Lexie was in a coma… Cristina was gone, in Minnesota… what had happened to Derek and why was Meredith being triaged?

She was going to have to find her voice. Meredith's throat was still stinging, painfully, but she did her best to cough and clear her airway; this hurt worse. She moaned.

Derek's hand was immediately there, his fingers intertwined with her own. "Meredith… shh, you're okay. I'm right here. Thank God…"

"W-What?" Meredith croaked out; her voice was barely audible. "What, no… I… I'm scared…"

She did not know why she had said that either. Why was Meredith scared? She had always felt at home in the hospital, yet part of Meredith had woken-up feeling like she was seven years old again, and seven-year-old Meredith would have been terrified of being admitted to the hospital.

"I know but you're okay. I'm right here," Derek repeatedly softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Um… I… I don't know. W-What happened?"

"How far back do you remember?"

Meredith attempted, again, to recall her memories and her mind fell on her father… her father who wanted to keep Lexie on life support, no matter how many days, months, or years passed. "L-Lexie… oh, God… m-my dad…"

"Yeah, your dad wants to keep Lexie on life support, doesn't he? No matter what?" Derek sighed.

"How do you know that?"

Derek frowned. Something bad had happened… maybe Meredith had done something bad. There was definitely pain behind her husband's piercing blue eyes. "It's been almost 24 hours, Meredith. Mark told me what happened in the ICU… you didn't come home last night."

"I… I didn't?" Some of the images were floating back. Meredith remembered being dragged down the hallway by Mark and speeding out of the parking lot in her Lexus but where had she gone? Had she been in an accident? That would explain why she was in the hospital.

"No, you did not," Derek said. "I'm not sure where you went but wherever it was, you obviously drunk… a lot of alcohol. You showed up for our meeting with the lawyers this morning completely wasted. You… you were throwing-up and passing out… Bailey thinks you had a mild case of alcohol poisoning."

_Alcohol poisoning… _it was a condition that Meredith had come across in the emergency room on more occasions that she could count. It was something Meredith could have, and probably should have suffered from many times throughout college and medical school… but had she ever really expected it? How could Meredith prepare herself for news like this?

She opened her mouth to reply, to tell Derek that she was sorry for worrying him but all that came out was, "Oh…"

"Yeah," Derek whispered. "And do you remember what happened at the meeting?"

"I… I threw-up all over the place?" Meredith guessed. That was what Derek had just told her, anyway.

"Well, yeah… that, too but your dad… your dad was drunk," Derek admitted. "I'm guessing everything going on with Lexie set him off. He was drunk and he was mad at you and… things spiraled. I'm just warning you because I don't want you to be surprised when you look in the mirror."

_The mirror? _Meredith touched her face, gingerly, and although she could not currently see her reflection, she could feel that her skin was swollen and in all likelihood, bruised. "D-Did he… he hit me?"

"He punched you, yeah… knocked you out. And after that, things are kind of blurry for me, too, because apparently I beat the shit out of him," Derek admitted.

Meredith gasped. "You didn't… b-but… your hand!"

"I mean, I didn't punch with that hand," Derek said and he held up his left fingers, which were still safely enclosed in a cast from surgery.

"Is your other hand okay? Are… are you okay?"

Derek smiled, but still, the pain in his eyes was doing nothing but increasing. "I'm fine… I'm fine now that you're awake. You scared me, Mer."

"I… I'm sorry. Really, I'm… I'm so sorry. I don't know what… what happened or why I… did that."

Meredith prayed that he would believe her. She had gone dark and twisty before… during her intern year, when Derek had initially chosen Addison, Meredith had been a wreck, binge-drinking virtually every single day. Derek had made some questionable decisions after the shooting… Meredith prayed that he would accept Meredith's night as a poor decision and move on.

The couple gazed into each other's eyes. Meredith felt like there was an elephant sitting on her chest; the buildup of anxiety was creating so much pressure. But she did love her husband… no matter what happened or what tragedies came their way, that one fact never changed and as long as Meredith had Derek, then she had faith that everything would be okay. They would grow old together… they would be each other's knight in shining whatever until Meredith got Alzheimer's and forgot everything.

"Meredith," Derek breathed, the strain in his voice so strong; it was adding to Meredith's heartache. "Mer… I think you do. I think you know. I think… I think you've been hiding a lot from me lately."

Instantly, involuntarily, Meredith shook her head. She pushed herself up into a better, sitting position. "No… I didn't do anything, Derek! I swear, nothing happened. I… I got drunk but… I know better, even when I'm drunk. I would never… do anything."

"I'm not talking about that," Derek said. "What I mean is… look, Meredith. I talked with Karev and with Dr. Wyatt…"

"Everything I say to Wyatt in my sessions… that's private!" Meredith said. "You have no business knowing that!"

"Wyatt didn't tell me anything that you told her in therapy. We're all doctors, Meredith; we know how HIPAA works. All that Wyatt told me is what she didn't do and according to Wyatt… she never started you on clonazepam or any other psychiatric medication."

Meredith froze. The world had officially come to an end. Derek's younger sister, Amelia was a pill addict. His father had been murdered by two men who turned to burlergy to feed their drug addictions. Meredith was not sure if she was actually considered an addict; it had only been a month but suddenly, she was beyond sure that Derek was going to leave her. He was going to leave her and it was all Meredith's fault for scamming her friends and family.

She was silent, her eyes frozen in place for so long that Derek touched her shoulder. "Meredith?"

"I… um… look…"

"Where did you get the pills, Meredith?"

Meredith was preparing to spew another lie but then she changed her mind. She switched her stance. "It doesn't matter where I got the pills. I… I did what I needed to do in order to be a functioning mother. You don't get to judge me for that."

"I don't get to judge you for taking psych meds," Derek corrected. "I was on plenty of anxiety meds after the shooting and I'm on antidepressants now. I do get to judge you when you're… I don't know, forging prescriptions and lying to me. You could have lost your medical license… you should have lost your medical license several times already but… but dammit, I thought you'd learned."

What was Meredith supposed to say to that? Derek was right; she knew that he was right… normally, it would be in Meredith's nature to argue, to defend her choices but all of the fight had been sapped from her body. She was incapable of heading down that path. Meredith opened her mouth and then closed it again several times, contemplating the best route…

"Meredith… I need you to talk to me."

"It was April Kepner. April wrote me the scripts but it wasn't her fault because I asked her to and she's gone now anyway so it doesn't matter. Please don't say anything," Meredith begged.

Derek nodded, slowly. "And why was the clonazepam so necessary?"

"Because!" Meredith cried, her airway narrowing. "Because… everyone is leaving and everyone is dying. Cristina is gone and… and Alex is leaving… Lexie is dying… I thought you were going to die… Derek, you said you understood. You said you understood that I was awake during those four days in the woods and I… I remember a lot more than you."

"I do understand," Derek insisted. "I mean, I… I don't but I understand what it's like to be traumatized and I just… I want to be there for you, Meredith. I want to help you like you've helped me and when you go and do this… I don't know what's going on. I don't know if you trust me. We have to communicate."

"How? How do you do that; how do you just start a conversation about the way that… that I stuck a knife in my sister's chest?"

Derek's mouth was open; he had been prepared to respond, too, but when he heard Meredith's words, he stopped short. "You what?"

Meredith shook her head tightly. She had not planned on going that far. She had not planned on or wanted to talk about Lexie's cardiac tamponade and she could not utter another word without hot tears spilling down her cheeks. Her chest was already about to explode with anxiety.

"Meredith," Derek sighed; he reached forward to touch her hand but she quickly lurched away. Any comforting action, at this point, was going to trigger a panic attack.

Actually, Meredith was already there. Her respirations were increasing; her vision was blurring as a result of her tears. "I… I can't… I can't… I don't… I don't know why…"

"Shh, Meredith…" Derek got up and sat on the edge of the gurney where he wrapped his arms around his wife. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry; I… I didn't know. I don't know probably half of what you're feeling but I'm here. I'm here, okay? Please… please trust me. I'm here."

It was not that Meredith did not trust Derek. If there was one person that Meredith trusted most in this entire world, it was Derek. She trusted him more than Cristina, more than Alex, more than herself, sometimes… but Derek could not do anything in this situation. No one could. Meredith was hopeless; she was trapped in an endless cycle of trauma and she was convinced that nothing would change, for the rest of her life.

And how did she explain that? Were there even words in the English dictionary that could describe how Meredith was feeling? If so, her vocabulary was at a loss.

She had been sobbing onto Derek's shoulder, gasping for air, and cringing at the memories for at least fifteen minutes when Derek finally pulled away. It was not done in an impatient manner. Derek was struggling, too; he was coping with his own trauma and dealing with his dramatic wife. He caressed Meredith lightly on the side of the head and brushed her tangled bangs out of her face.

"Meredith," he sighed for what felt like the hundredth time. "Listen to me… I love you. I love you more than anything. But you need more help than I can provide for you right now."

Meredith was right. Meredith had been right all along. She sniffled, loudly. "So… so what does that mean? You're leaving me?"

"I… of course not," Derek said; he looked aghast at the very thought. "I will always be here for you, Meredith. I will never leave you. But I've talked with Karev and with Dr. Wyatt, like I said, and we all agree it is in your best interest to… to stay here for a few days, to be admitted."

"Admitted? Like… to the psych ward?"

"That term is outdated; I don't like to use it anymore. It's a temporary, short-term mental health facility and you know better than to think of the psych patients as _crazy_," Derek said but his statement was a confirmation in itself.

Meredith shook her head. "N-No… I… I don't need it! I'll get better, Derek, I… I promise. I'm not suicidal."

"Maybe not but you're traumatized and you need… stabilization. You need to have some proper therapy sessions. You need to get on the right medication, something that isn't as addicting as clonazepam. Come on, Meredith; Lexie was in psych two years ago and you didn't have a problem with it."

"That's different! Lexie was going to kill herself or someone else, the way she was going!" Meredith argued. "Derek, p-please… psych is crap. I can get better on my own. I always have before and I can do it again… no one has ever looked at Lexie the same way since she was committed to psych! She's always been the… the crazy resident! I'm supposed to be starting my fellowship! I'm making 300 grand and… and I'm a good surgeon. No one's going to trust me anymore if I'm admitted to psych!"

Derek sighed; Meredith was not making this easy. She resented herself for hurting him but if Meredith's tantrum was going to save her from the looney bin, then it was worth it.

"Meredith, whether you're admitted to psych or not, you aren't going to be operating for a while. I know you're an amazing surgeon; everyone knows that. But unless you get the help you need, you're not going to get that chance to perform surgery again. Please… do this for me. Do this for me and for Zola. Admit yourself willingly. I will commit you involuntarily, if I have to but I would really rather not."

"Really? You'd rather not?" Meredith spat angrily. "Then don't… if I'm not going to be operating either way, then take me home so I can sleep off this hangover and see my daughter. And… and take care of you; who's going to take care of you if I'm not there?"

"That doesn't matter because one way or another, you're done taking care of anyone else except for yourself… at least until further notice," Derek said. "Besides, I'll be fine. It looks like Karev is going to stick around here a while longer. He'll be there for me if I need anything."

"Isn't Alex going to Hopkins?" Meredith asked.

"No… well, maybe he is eventually but not until you're better and he's considering not going at all. I told him that if he stayed, we would sell him our house… or your mom's house, I guess."

"You shouldn't have done that. My mom left that house in my name and it's me that gets to decide what to do with it," Meredith said.

Derek was running out of comebacks; his face was flushed red with frustration and the veins on his temple were pulsing from stress. "Dammit, Meredith… look, you're not coming home! I'm sorry but you're not. I wish it was that simple but I don't feel comfortable bringing you home right now. Are you going to make me commit you or not?"

She should accept the admission voluntarily… deep down, Meredith knew that. Seeking help for mental illness was the right thing to do and it would scar Derek forever if he had to fill out an affidavit on Meredith's behalf. None of it mattered though. Meredith could not remove the images from her head… _psychiatry residents asking her assessment questions… being known as the plane crash victim that went crazy… word getting around to Cristina that Meredith had cracked…_

"I'm not going to inpatient psych," Meredith said, flatly.

Tears were glistening in Derek's eyes as he nodded and stood up. "Okay, then… I'll tell Dr. Wyatt your decision. She'll be over soon to go through your involuntary paperwork. And don't think about running. You're connected to an IV and security is right outside. You'll be on elopement precautions."

_**Please don't forget to review! Water the writer. This chapter took a lot of revising and editing. Thank you so much for reading. Xoxo, merderpedia :)**_


	29. Listen pt 1

_**A/N- Okay, first things first… I am SO sorry for the long wait on this one! I had finals at school and then it was Christmas and I went through a funk where I just didn't want to write at all but now we're back! And the good news is, Chapter 30 should be coming VERY soon after this one. This chapter is told entirely from Meredith's POV as she begins her psychiatric treatment. Hope you enjoy! **_

Thus far in her career at Seattle Grace, Meredith had never stepped foot onto any of the actual psychiatric units. She had escorted patients into the lobby, consulted with nurses and receptionists, and visited Lexie in the dining area, but the last time that Meredith had walked around an actual mental health facility was when she had been a medical student at Dartmouth, sure beyond doubt that she would never choose to specialize in the subject of psychiatry.

It turned out that the psych ward, at least the Adult Intermediate Unit at Seattle Grace, was nothing like the stereotypical institutions in movies. The nurses did not wear white gowns or hats; they donned ordinary, pastel scrubs. Most of the patients did not talk to themselves or behave violently. The unit was large, spacious, with comfortable chairs and a television. The rooms were rather bland, containing nothing more than two, standard, block beds and thin mattresses, but Meredith did not have to worry about an annoying roommate. She was considered a VIP, being a hospital employee, and given a private space.

Due to her unrelenting hangover, Meredith slept most of that first day in psych. She answered a few questions that the nurses asked her, all standard: _Can you rate your anxiety for me on a scale from zero to ten? What about your depression? Are you having any thoughts about hurting yourself or anyone else? Can you see or hear anything that's not there?_

And Meredith ate a cup of strawberry yogurt for dinner. She was not especially hungry, but Meredith knew the drill. The sooner that she consumed food and acted like a normal human being, the sooner she would be discharged.

Early the next morning, Meredith awoke to find a young tech in grey scrubs standing above her bed. "Good morning, Meredith. My name's Kayla; I'll be one of your techs today. Do you mind if I check your vitals real quick?"

"Um… no, I guess that's fine," Meredith yawned. She was not used to being addressed by anything other than _Dr. Grey_ at Seattle Grace.

Kayla wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Meredith's arm and then stuck a thermometer in her mouth. "So… did you sleep well?"

Meredith was unable to speak, with the thermometer between her lips. Why was it that people always asked questions at the worst possible moment? Meredith's dentist did the same thing; he inquired about medical school and residency when his patient's mouth was wide open.

Once the machine buzzed and Meredith learned that her temperature was 97.9 degrees fahrenheit, she swallowed back her spit and replied, "Yeah, I slept fine. What time is it? Did they drug me last night?"

"It's almost 8:00. I can go ask your nurse about your current list of medications but she did ask me to tell you that breakfast is about to be served," Kayla said. "And the doctor is here, too; she'll meet with you after you eat."

"Okay… but I'm a doctor…" Meredith had no clue why she said that. The type of doctor that was coming to see her was in all likelihood, a psychiatrist, but it was strange to hear Kayla refer to someone else as _the doctor_ in Meredith's presence.

"Yes, I know that, Meredith, but you aren't your own doctor. Your doctor, it looks like… is Dr. Wyatt."

"Oh… right," Meredith said; she had forgotten that Wyatt also treated inpatients at Seattle Grace. "Hey, by the way, has anyone called up here for me? My husband or my dad? Or any of my friends?"

"Not that I know of but my shift just started," Kayla confessed. "Er… I'll go ask the nurse about that, too."

Kayla left, along with the bulky, portable vitals machine and Meredith figured that it was as good a time as ever to get up. It was 8:00, much later than Meredith typically roused, and it would look good if she was doing something other than sleeping. Excessive sleep was a prime symptom of depression.

Moving slowly, thanks to the slight concussion her father had inflicted upon her, Meredith rolled out of bed and walked onto the unit. Several of the other patients were already awake, drinking coffee and watching television. Meredith poured herself a cup and found an empty chair. Seated next to her was a woman that appeared to be in her mid-twenties; the bottom half of her hair was bright pink.

Meredith had not intended to make conversation but the pink-haired woman smiled at her, softly. "Hey. Are you new?"

"I got here yesterday morning, I think, but I've just been asleep," Meredith said.

"Nice. The drugs they give here are awesome, aren't they? I'm Shelby, by the way."

"Meredith."

"Nice to meet you. My grandma's name is Meredith," Shelby remarked. "So why are you here? No offense, but I'm guessing your boyfriend or someone was beating the shit out of you?"

_Why would Shelby assume something like that?_ Meredith shook her head, prepared to defend her amazing husband and then she remembered the black eye. Of course, domestic violence would be high on Shelby's assumption list.

"Oh, um… no, my dad did that. My husband is amazing… I mean, I'm kinda pissed at him right now because he locked me up in here but for the most part… yeah, my husband is amazing."

"And why'd he do that? Cause you were gonna kill yourself?"

"No," Meredith said and shrugged. This discussion was extremely awkward. "It's… it's a long story."

Thankfully, Shelby did not press for further details. "I gotcha. That's why I'm here. I got drunk and took a bunch of pills. My mom found my suicide note and went all ballistic."

_Finding your daughter's suicide note is a pretty good reason to freak-out,_ Meredith thought to herself but she kept this comment inside. She just nodded, robotically. "Well, uh… it sounds like it's good you're here."

"It's nice to get away for a while and to get lots of drugs for sleep but I don't feel like these places ever help long-term," Shelby said. "What do I know, though? I'm a crazy, 26-year-old that still lives with her parents. I'm pretty much a hopeless case."

"You're not a hopeless case. Trust me, I've seen hopeless cases. You're not hopeless," Meredith said.

Shelby smirked. "What are you, a doctor?"

"Yes, I'm a doctor that's in the psych ward," Meredith joked. It was not technically a lie, but Shelby clearly took it as a joke and laughed.

Just then, the breakfast cart arrived so Meredith and Shelby both got up and followed the other patients into the dining room. Meredith had refused to fill out a menu upon admission so one of the nurses had ordered a house tray for her; the meal she received consisted of a veggie omelet, turkey sausage, peach slices, and a cinnamon roll. There were no knives, only plastic sporks. Meredith picked one up and started on her omelet.

Shelby had made other friends in treatment so she chatted away with them as she ate. Meredith stayed mostly silent. Halfway through her breakfast, Meredith was approached by a tall, African American woman in green scrubs… one of the psych nurses.

"Hello, there. Are you Meredith?"

Meredith washed down her omelet with a sip of apple juice. "I am…"

"Perfect. My name is Crystal and I'll be your nurse today. How are you feeling? Could you rate your anxiety for me on a scale of zero to ten, ten being the highest?"

"Um… six," Meredith said. The main reason she was feeling nervous at the moment was Derek. She had not heard from him since yesterday morning. Was Alex taking care of him, like promised? Was Zola confused about where her mother had gone? Had Cristina learned about Meredith's breakdown?

"Okay, and how about your depression?"

"I think that's a six, too."

"Are you having any thoughts about hurting yourself or anyone else?"

"No, and I never was… I'm depressed and I've got PTSD; I'll admit that but I was never suicidal or homicidal."

"Alright, Meredith… alright," Crystal said and made some notes on the piece of paper she was carrying. "And are you seeing or hearing anything that isn't there?"

"No," Meredith sighed.

"Okay, then… I'll leave you alone to finish your breakfast. Once you're done, let me know and I'll take you across the hall to Dr. Wyatt's office."

That was going to be an interesting conversation. The last time Meredith had seen her therapist, she had what seemed like a breakthrough session. Meredith had confessed to taking care of everyone else, rather than herself… and then less than one day later, Meredith drank herself into a stupor, was assaulted by her dad, and committed to inpatient psych.

To put off the torture as long as possible, Meredith took her time eating. She consumed a full meal for the first time since the plane crash, even swallowing every last bit of her cinnamon roll. It reminded her of the goodies that Izzie used to bake before she got cancer… before George died… before the shooting and the plane crash…

Eventually, when Meredith could procrastinate no longer, she returned her empty tray to the cart and notified Crystal that she was finished. The nurse did as she had previously explained and walked Meredith across the hall to Dr. Wyatt's office. The psychiatrist's door was ajar.

"Dr. Wyatt?" Crystal called. "I've got Ms. Meredith here to see you."

"Thank you," Wyatt said and approached the doorway, a sad smile on her face. "Well, Meredith… I have to say that you've looked better."

Meredith attempted to smile in return; her lips could not quite form the motion. Half of her face was bruised and swollen, thanks to Thatcher. Instead of her usual surgical scrubs, Meredith was wearing uncomfortable, paper scrubs that had been dyed a hideous shade of neon blue. No shoes were permitted in the psych ward, with the exception of staff, so Meredith donned standard, yellow hospital booties on her feet.

"Come on in, sweetie," Wyatt instructed.

Meredith followed her therapist inside and curled into the arm of her favorite couch.

Wyatt took her usual spot in the chair but she did not position a legal pad on her lap like normal. "First off, let me say that I don't know everything that happened yesterday morning but I am very glad that you're alright, relatively speaking."

_Relatively speaking… _it was better than everyone assuming Meredith was fine. She nodded, shortly.

There was an awkward pause; neither doctor uttered a word and then Wyatt sighed. "Alright, Meredith. Let's just get right down to it, okay? Were you attempting to end your life when you drank all that tequila?"

"No."

Wyatt stared her down. "Really?"

"Really. Everyone keeps asking that and I wasn't trying to kill myself," Meredith argued. "I was… I don't know what I was doing but it wasn't that. I was just… trying to cope, I guess."

"By drinking yourself into oblivion when we had already discussed healthier coping mechanisms?"

Meredith knew it was wrong and she was genuinely ashamed. Her voice, which had previously been declaring strong and steady words, came out soft and wobbly. "I… I didn't know… I… you wouldn't give me anymore meds and… I… I never meant to hurt Derek. He has to know that. I… I know I hurt him and… that was the last thing I meant to do."

"Why did you feel the need to drink all that tequila, Meredith? What happened after our last session?"

"I thought the whole hospital heard about that. We… my dad and I… we put on quite a show in the ICU, apparently."

"I've heard bits and pieces but I would like to hear it from your perspective. Just tell me as much as you feel able."

Meredith turned her head away from Wyatt and focused on the colorful fish tank in the corner of her office. For some reason, the aquatic creatures swimming gently though the turquoise water always acted as a calming influence.

"Um… when I left our last session… I got a page from Mark… my friend, Mark Sloan, one of the other doctors that was in the plane crash. He paged me 911 to Lexie's ICU room and… and I thought she was dying so… I ran down there."

"And what happened in Lexie's ICU room?"

One of the brightest fish in the tank, a glowing, purple one, had stopped swimming. It was stationary, resting against the edge of the tank. Meredith wondered if it was dying.

"Meredith?" Wyatt prompted.

"Lexie's team of doctors told us it was time to start thinking about… life support… how long we want to… keep her on life support. It's… it's my dad's decision. He's her healthcare proxy but… we all weighed in and… I gave my opinion. Let's just say that… my dad… he didn't like my opinion."

"What was your opinion?"

Meredith blinked several times in a row, rapidly. There was wetness pooling in her eyes and it was far too soon to get dramatic. "That… we shouldn't keep her on life support. I mean… that's not what I would want… to die in slow motion."

"But your family didn't agree with you?" Wyatt assumed.

"Look… I… I'm sorry," Meredith sighed. "I… I don't want to go there. I don't want to talk about this. If it was that easy to talk about it, I would have done that instead of drinking tequila."

Wyatt nodded, slowly, the crease between her eyebrows thickening in consideration. "You don't have to apologize to me. I know you are currently feeling things that the human brain was never intended to process. Would you like to talk about your feelings regarding your father?"

"No. In my experience, talking about it only makes it worse," Meredith said. "When I talk about it… I don't know; the thoughts keep coming and things get darker."

"And what happens when you don't talk about it? When you drown out your problems in a bottle of tequila?"

Meredith thought about the way that her relationship with Derek had derailed towards the end of her intern year, because she refused to cope with her past trauma. "I… I don't know. That never seems to turn out good either."

"Exactly. I'm not saying it's going to be easy, Meredith," Wyatt explained. "But you've never been in therapy for a long period of time before. You went for a few months a few years ago… and then you ignored all my calls after the shooting. I hoped that was because you were not at work that day and simply unaffected by the trauma but after what happened with Derek, I know that's not true."

"So what are you saying? I'm stuck with you forever?"

Wyatt chuckled. "Not necessarily forever… but you've been through two significant traumatic events in the span of two years. It takes time to heal. And that brings me back to my original point… had you been honest with me about your anxiety from the beginning… I wouldn't have asked you to describe everything that happened in the woods in great detail… not during our first session. Actually, with so many of your loved ones still in the hospital, that probably would have been unsafe. I just wanted you to give an inch… to take baby steps… to say something other than _I'm fine_ for the hundredth time."

"You wouldn't have given me medicine. I know you're a stickler about drugs," Meredith said.

"No, Meredith," Wyatt said and shook her head. "I am not a stickler about drugs. If I was, that would not make me a very good psychiatrist. The truth is, I just don't like prescribing addictive drugs such as clonazepam or alprazolam for long periods of time. That does more harm to the body than good. For a few short weeks after you've been in a plane crash, though? Yes, had you been willing to have a proper conversation with me, I would have been willing to give you something for the anxiety."

Unless Meredith was mistaken, Wyatt was attempting to help her patient feel better but her words were having the opposite effect. All Wyatt was doing was reinforcing the fact that Meredith had screwed things up, per usual.

"I get it, okay?!" Meredith snapped before she could help it. "I screwed up. I handled this whole situation horribly and I hurt my husband in the process. What am I supposed to do now?"

"I don't know. No one can answer that question except for you, Meredith but in my opinion… you're supposed to forgive yourself."

"Forgive myself? I… I don't…"

"Forgive yourself for not doing more for the other plane crash victims, even though I'm sure that there was nothing more you could have done. Forgive yourself for lying to Derek. Forgive yourself for whatever shortcomings you have concerning your father."

Meredith thought back to the fight… not the one in the ICU, and not the one in the conference room yesterday; Meredith could not recall anything from that meeting. Her mind flashed back to waking up in the emergency room… the pain in Derek's eyes…

_I do get to judge you when you're… I don't know, forging prescriptions and lying to me. You could have lost your medical license… you should have lost your medical license several times already but… but dammit, I thought you'd learned._

The tears were back, flooding Meredith's eyes and cascading down her face before she could stop them. Her chest was heaving with fear and shame. She shook her head in a vain attempt to rid her emotions, yet nothing was working. "I… I can't forgive myself for what I did to… to Derek. I've… he's struggling, too, and I… I was trying to… to protect him but… I've hurt him so many times and… I… I don't know how we're… we're gonna get past this."

"Did Derek say something to you? Did he say something about not wanting to work through this?"

"N-No, he… he said he would never leave me but… but I don't know. H-He's said that before…"

"And has he left you before?" Wyatt pressed.

Meredith thought back to her intern year. Derek had initially chosen Addison. He had technically left her but Meredith was not angry about that. They had moved past it. Derek would not be Derek if he did not try and make it work with his wife.

Once the marriage fell apart, Derek and Meredith reunited and then fizzled out when Meredith refused to deal with her luggage. There was a drowning, a brief fling with a scrub nurse, a lot of therapy, and a clinical trial which ultimately brought them back together among a house of candles. Never once, in all of that mess, though, was Derek the one to call it quits. Meredith had always broken up with him due to her lack of trust.

They had been on the brink in early 2012. Meredith had made another mistake, and to this day, she was conflicted about the shades of grey and right and wrong. But she knew she had hurt Derek then, when she tampered with his Alzheimer's trial. Derek had been furious, and Meredith would not have blamed him if he fled the rocky waters.

But he did not leave her. Derek had remained faithful, throughout the storms.

"I… um…" Meredith trailed off. She waited for Wyatt to ask more questions, to prod her for an explanation, yet Wyatt did no such thing.

She took a deep breath. "We're going to have another session tomorrow, Meredith. I can sense that this is a lot for you to process, at the moment, and we'll talk more tomorrow. Tomorrow's session is going to be special, though. We're going to include Derek in this discussion."

The thought of bringing Derek into Wyatt's office, of being in therapy with him, made Meredith's stomach rise to her throat. "I… why?! Does he know this?!"

"Derek is right down the hall as we speak, having his own therapy session with Dr. Rehmani," Wyatt said and Meredith jumped up, off the couch.

Derek was here. Derek was only a few doors down. Meredith needed to see him and apologize. She had no idea how she was going to do this; Meredith's thoughts were a tangled mess of emotions, but she needed to see Derek. Unfortunately, Meredith could not take so much as one step in the direction of the doorway before her vision went blurry as a result of her concussion. She attempted to steady herself and ended up tumbling back onto the couch.

Wyatt's face was unreadable. Somehow, the shrinks always managed to keep the most neutral of expressions, regardless of the circumstances. "Now is not the time, Meredith. You'll see him tomorrow."

"H-He hasn't talked to me yet! He hasn't called and… I have to see him!" Meredith cried.

"And you will see him tomorrow. It will be just you, me, and Derek. Rehmani and I have talked; we agree that that's best. I have an assignment for you to complete today, too, before our session with Derek."

An assignment? Meredith had not even started the list of ten words that Wyatt had instructed her to write two days ago. Now there was more homework that Meredith had to finish before tomorrow?

"I want you to compose a letter to Derek," Wyatt instructed. "I know your thoughts probably feel a little like scrambled eggs right now and when your brain feels like that, the words you want to say don't always come out clearly. Write a letter to Derek tonight and tell him as much or as little as you'd like. He's going to do the same for you, and tomorrow, you will read those letters to one another."

"What if I say no?" Meredith asked. She could see the benefits, therapeutically, but writing a letter to Derek would be beyond emotionally tasking. Meredith was breathless and exhausted from this heavy conversation.

Wyatt shrugged. "That would ultimately be your choice, but repairing things with Derek seems awfully important to you. I've seen this exercise work wonders for a number of couples before that were convinced divorce was the only option. I strongly urge you to give it a try, Meredith. Give it a try for Derek."

"For Derek," Meredith repeated.

"For Derek," Wyatt confirmed. "Now let's wrap things up for today, alright?"

"Do we have any idea when I might get to go home?" Meredith asked.

"I can't give you an exact date yet but it shouldn't be too far into the future. You would tell me if you were having any suicidal or homicidal thoughts, correct?"

Meredith nodded. "Yeah… it's not like that. I don't know how to explain it but… it's not like that."

"Okay, then," Wyatt agreed. She reached into the pocket of her lab coat and withdrew her prescription pad. "I am going to start you on some basic antidepressants, Meredith. Despite your long history of depression, it appears that you've never actually taken antidepressants. You don't have any drug allergies, correct?"

"No, nothing that I know of," Meredith said, thinking of Lexie and her dozens of allergies.

"Alright… let's start you on 100 milligrams of Sertraline, also known as Zoloft; I'm sure you're familiar," Wyatt decided. "And then we'll add in fifty milligrams of Hydroxyzine HCL, or Atarax for anxiety. It's less addictive than Clonazepam but effective, all the same. Is that okay with you, Dr. Grey?"

"That… that sounds fine to me," Meredith said. "And then I guess I'll be here a few more days to see how my body reacts to the medication?"

"Yes… that is the standard order. You know as well as I do that sometimes psychiatric medications can have the opposite effect… make your mental health take a turn for the worse."

Meredith agreed. She bid farewell to Dr. Wyatt, and accompanied a psych tech back across the hall. For a split second, she considered sprinting down the corridor and bursting into Rehmani's office to confront her husband but if Meredith wanted to get discharged anytime soon, elopement would not be the wisest choice.

Group was in session when Meredith returned to the Adult Intermediate Unit. She was encouraged by her nurse, Crystal, to attend, and maybe doing so would help Meredith go home sooner but she had her limits. She had just survived an hour of emotional uncovering with Wyatt. Meredith needed a break before submitting herself to further torture.

Wyatt was a good shrink. Meredith had come to that conclusion. Therapy with her was not fun, but was therapy supposed to be enjoyable? Wyatt had a special talent and it exceeded any of Meredith's gifts. She could translate scrambled eggs into actual, comprehensible thoughts.

Meredith's brain was still filled with scrambled eggs at the moment. Perhaps this was on account of her concussion or the images threatening to intrude from her hippocampus… _crushing Derek's hand with a rock… feeding Jerry's body to the wolves… watching Lexie's body grow weaker by the day… _

She trudged back to her private bedroom. The psychiatric staff had left a blank composition book and a golf pencil on the bed, in case Meredith desired to do any journaling. Keeping a diary was lame, in Meredith's opinion, but the paper was going to serve her well.

Her hands quivering with anxiety and heartache, Meredith opened her journal and wrote two words across the top of the first page: _Dear Derek… _

**MTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTB**

Meredith took her initial doses of Zoloft and Atarax Friday evening and as a result, slept almost the rest of the night. She ate dinner, and answered the nurses' questions to avoid being kept in the hospital longer, but Meredith's body was adjusting to the new drugs and she had not truly rested peacefully since before the plane crash.

That was not to say that Meredith was recovered. Whenever the room was dark, Meredith was reminded of the forest and the way she had sprinted through it, no idea of her whereabouts, in search of Derek. There was a time in Meredith's life when she would have considered black her favorite color but those days were long gone. Nothing triggered Meredith like darkness so to keep the nightmares away, she instructed the nurses and techs on her unit to keep her bedroom lights on at all times. This was acceptable, because she had no roommate to disturb.

The nightmares still came though, during Meredith's second night on the ward. Upon waking, she did not remember exactly what had happened but the dream involved Lexie and Derek both being eaten by a pack of hungry wolves. Meredith woke-up screaming, and several nurses sprinted into her room.

"Meredith! Meredith, you need to be quiet! People are trying to sleep!"

"I'm… I'm sorry," Meredith gasped, sweat pouring from her face and neck. "I just… I had a bad dream. Can I p-please call my husband?"

One of the nurses, a tall, skinny, blonde, shook her head. "No, I'm sorry but patient phones don't come on until 7:30 in the morning. Do you want something to help you calm down?"

Meredith knew the code for that question… _something_ was a strong antipsychotic that would knock Meredith out until morning. She was not sure what time it was now, but Meredith could not risk oversleeping and missing her session with Dr. Wyatt and Derek. And it was not like Meredith was truly psychotic. She was just plagued with anxiety, scared of everything and everyone in the world.

"I'm okay," Meredith decided and sniffed back her tears. "Is it okay if I just take a shower and calm down? I'm… all sweaty and gross."

The same blonde nurse spoke again. "No, we don't do showers until 6:00 in the morning because that could wake up other patients, too. How about I get you something to help you calm down?"

"No, you can't fool me with that like you can all the other patients. I'm a doctor, a surgeon, and I probably know more about the medications in your office than you do. It's not _something to help me calm down. _It's an antipsychotic. Would you mind telling me the name of it?"

"There's no reason to get smart with me," Blondie snapped. "You may be a doctor but right now, you're not practicing. You're the patient and I'm the one in charge. Do you want an Atarax or not?"

_Atarax… _right, Meredith had forgotten that she had that prescription for this exact purpose. Now would probably be a good time to take the pill but she hated the way that Blondie was treating her, like she was another crazy psych patient, too oblivious to do anything other than blindly accept random medications.

Since when was Meredith forbidden to take a shower?!

"Fine, just… just leave me alone."

Thanks to the drugs, Meredith dozed off again shortly later, and the next thing she knew, Kayla was back to measure Meredith's morning vitals. Everything looked relatively good; despite her emotions, Meredith's blood pressure sat nicely at 112 over 74 and her temperature was 98.1 degrees.

Perhaps because her body was adjusting to the Zoloft and Atarax, Meredith was not hungry this morning. She only managed to choke down a few bites of cold scrambled eggs, which seemed appropriate, before following Crystal across the hallway for the second consecutive day.

This time, Dr. Wyatt's office was significantly more welcoming. Already on the couch, his hand covered with a removable black brace, was Derek Shepherd. Next to him, cast on the soft beige material, was a folded piece of paper. Derek had completed his homework.

Tentatively, Meredith approached her husband. She had wanted nothing more than to see him, to talk with him, for the last two days, but now that he was here, words failed Meredith. She opened her mouth and then closed it and then opened it again.

"Mer…" Derek whispered. He stood up, yet did not move forward. It was like he was afraid to touch his wife, intimidated by her fragility.

"Hi," Meredith said.

"Hi," Derek said. "I… how are you feeling?"

"I'm… okay. I've missed you."

Derek could evidently restrain himself no longer. He rushed forward and immediately engulfed Meredith in a huge, rib-crushing hug. She gasped aloud from the pain but did not attempt to free herself from the embrace. She let her facial bruises be pressed into Derek's shoulder and resisted the urge to kiss his neck.

"God, I've missed you, too," Derek breathed into her ear. "It feels wrong to… to be there with Zola and Karev and not have you there."

"Is Zola okay? Is she… does she know where… I am?"

"No… not… not exactly," Derek said. "She just… thinks you're sick and in the hospital, which I guess is the truth. She misses her mommy."

Meredith was undoubtedly unwell. This was always what she feared… that she would have a psychotic breakdown like her mother… that Meredith would traumatize Zola by slitting her wrists or overdosing on anxiety medications.

Derek's statement snapped Meredith back to reality. She was here, suffocating in the psych ward for a reason. She was trapped in an endless cycle of anxiety and guilt, a worse mother than Ellis Grey. That said a lot.

"Why don't the two of you sit down?" Wyatt suggested after an awkward beat of silence.

Meredith did as she was told, taking her usual place on the end of the couch. Derek sat down, too, several inches away from his wife. The gap, while minor, made Meredith feel like vomiting.

"Okay," Wyatt sighed. "Meredith, we know each other well so I'm not going to waste time with introductions. Dr. Shepherd, we know _of_ each other and we'll be getting to know each other well so I hope you don't mind that I call you Derek?"

"Please."

"Great. I'm Dr. Katherine Wyatt but… like I said, I'm sure you knew that. I'm a psychiatrist with additional certifications, one of which is trauma and that's why we're here."

Wyatt had not asked a question, yet a pause still followed. Meredith stared at the floor, trying her damndest not to meet Derek's eyes. If Meredith looked into her husband's eyes, she would be reminded of all the ways she had hurt him and a panic attack would shortly ensue.

"It goes without saying that you two have survived more trauma in the past two years than most people experience in their lifetime," Wyatt continued. "What we need to do now is improve communication surrounding those traumatic events. Derek, I've taken the liberty of speaking with my colleague, Dr. Rehmani. We did not breach confidentiality; Rehmani did not inform me of anything that you told him during your sessions but we are under a mutual agreement that you could benefit from couples' trauma therapy. Are you following?"

Meredith nodded and Derek said, "Yeah, the… the shooting and the plane crash. We were in therapy after the shooting, though."

"Do you feel like the therapy with Dr. Andrew Perkins was beneficial to you?" Wyatt asked.

"I mean, we weren't in therapy for very long. I only had about three full sessions with him and then he cleared me for surgery," Meredith said.

"I had two sessions with him and I was visited by another guy when I was still in the ICU," Derek added. "I honestly don't know if it was the therapy or what… I just know I was really struggling at first, and then… once I got cleared for surgery, I didn't have any trouble operating."

"But I'm assuming, and correct me if I'm wrong, that the shooting is still something that you think about…"

"Hold on," Derek said and leaned forward, anxiously. "I'm sorry but I thought we were here because of Meredith. Meredith's sister, Lexie, is on life support in the ICU and her father knocked her unconscious. It's Meredith that I think we should focus on."

"Yeah, how is Lexie? Have there been any changes?" Meredith was speaking to her husband yet still refrained from turning in his direction.

"Not… Mark's keeping me updated but no, she's the same."

Wyatt cleared her throat, drawing everyone's attention back to the task at hand. "Excuse me. I know you are anxious for updates about your sister, Meredith and trust me, we will get to Lexie. We need to stay on track, though."

"But isn't that why we're here? To talk about what happened with Meredith and her dad? That involves Lexie and that needs to be our focus," Derek pressed.

"You're jumping ahead of me," Wyatt said. "You need to take a step back and listen. Like I said, you both have a lot of unresolved trauma. We're going to talk about Meredith and her father. We're going to talk about the plane crash. We're also going to talk about the shooting. Most importantly, we're going to help the two of you better your communication with one another so that you can be honest."

"I don't lie to my wife," Derek said, flatly. "And maybe this isn't what you're used to but our marriage isn't… we're not one of those couples on the brink of divorce. I'm totally happy in my marriage."

"Really? Then why is it that you won't even look at Meredith right now?" Wyatt inquired.

Meredith's head rose before she could help herself. She, apparently, was not the only one avoiding her spouse.

"Look," Derek sighed, impatiently. "This isn't easy for me… to… to see my wife with a black eye in paper scrubs. I never wanted her to end up here."

"You didn't?" Meredith snorted. "Then why was it that you involuntarily committed me here against my will?"

"Do you have any idea what you were like at that meeting the other day, Meredith?! You almost killed yourself! You would have killed yourself, if I hadn't done something!"

"Oh, here we go again, with you wanting to be my knight in shining whatever," Meredith said, crossing her arms, angrily. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not suicidal?!"

"I don't know! How I'm supposed to believe anything you say right now?!" Derek shouted.

"Excuse me, are you mad at me?! You're mad at me for… for being upset that my idiotic father wants Lexie to die in slow motion?! That I didn't come home for one night and… help with Zola?!"

"I can take care of Zola and you know that's not what this is about," Derek said. "I'm mad because I… you're just…"

Finally, Wyatt intervened. "Okay, stop it. Both of you, stop it."

Meredith and Derek looked her way; Wyatt sighed. "You're running in circles. Both of you have made mistakes. Neither of you are entirely innocent. We've established that you both have frustrations. That's why Rehmani and I gave you the assignments we did… remember?"

Derek fingered the folded piece of paper sitting next to him on the couch. Meredith's note was burning a hole through the pocket of her scrubs.

"Derek, under the circumstances, I think it's best that you go first," Wyatt instructed. "Meredith, don't interrupt him while he reads. Listen to everything he says and think about everything before you respond. Are we clear?"

The married couple agreed silently and then Derek unfolded his paper, cleared his throat, and began to read in a shaky voice: "Dear Meredith… As a physician, I have published articles, essays, and clinical research for the last twenty years. Still, this simple letter to my wife is the most difficult thing I have ever written. Before we go any farther, I want you to know that this is not in any sense, a goodbye letter. Two days ago, when we sat in the Emergency Department together, you asked me if I was leaving you and I'm sorry if I ever did anything that made you think that was a possibility. Our relationship is complicated at the moment; I will readily admit to that. However, I am not someone that walks out of a relationship, not to mention, a marriage, when things get difficult. I am willing to work, to do whatever it takes to keep our family together. I cannot express in words how much I hope you feel the same.

"I have been trying to piece together the events of the last few days in my mind. It's like I am studying for an exceptionally difficult surgery. It doesn't matter how many times I run these memories through my head, though; nothing is becoming easier to understand and that frustrates me because I am accustomed to analyzing my way through anything. Unfortunately, the only conclusion that I can come to is that you do not trust me enough to let me in, to confide your problems in me. I understand why you could not trust me in the past. I understand that you could not trust anyone but I thought we had moved past that. I thought, if anything, I had reason to be distrustful based on your continuous reckless demeanor but I did trust you, Meredith, and I want to continue to trust you. You are proving that very difficult.

"I have a lot of questions. Maybe you are ready to answer them now and maybe you're not but I have to ask or the thoughts are going to eat me alive. More than anything, I want to know why you did not confide in me sooner. I want to know how you could lie to me about your clonazepam prescriptions, when you know drug abuse is a sensitive subject for me. I want to know if anything happened three nights ago, wherever you got drunk. I want to know how you got back to Seattle Grace after getting drunk. Did you call a taxi, or were you so intoxicated that you forgot driving drunk is illegal and dangerous?"

There were tears in Derek's eyes and he was visibly using all his energy to keep them inside as he read his final paragraph. "I… p-pray you will understand that all of my concerns or criticisms are said out of nothing but love. I don't know what to do… I don't know how to help you and my worst nightmare is that… one day… I'll wake-up and you'll be in the b-bathtub and I would have been… too late. I know you say you're not suicidal now but… that could change. I remember my mental state after the shooting and I know you experienced a lot more trauma than I did in the plane crash. You took such good care of me after the shooting. You were there for me, every minute of every day, even when you were secretly recovering from a miscarriage… all I want now is… is the chance to repay that favor and take care of you.

"All my love… Derek."

_**Please don't forget to favorite/follow and REVIEW! The second half of MerDer's therapy session will be in the next chapter which will be posted VERY soon. It was just getting too long, I think. Thank you so much for reading! **_

_**Xoxo, merderpedia :)**_


	30. Listen pt 2

_**A/N- Here's the second half of the last chapter! Writing couple's trauma therapy with Wyatt was truly an enjoyable experience for me and I hope you enjoy it, too!**_

The panic was rising in her throat. The shame, the guilt… all of it was hitting Meredith like a blunt trauma. She had known this was coming, of course. She knew that she had hurt Derek, perhaps beyond repair. Hearing her husband read those words out loud, though, and listening to the pain in his voice was too much, even for dark and twisty Meredith Grey.

If she had been anywhere other than a therapy office, Meredith likely would have run. She would have avoided the crisis because that was what she did best. But there was a bracelet dangling from Meredith's wrist that read _Elopement Risk _and running away, at the present moment, would only damage Derek further.

There were no escape routes. The bland, beige walls of Wyatt's office were closing in on her. Meredith heard someone taking thick, heavy gasps of air and seconds later, she came to the conclusion that the person hyperventilating like Darth Vader was herself.

"Meredith," Derek said, leaning forward, as if his wife was about to go into respiratory arrest. "Mer! You're okay… talk to me, Mer…"

"I… I can't… I can't… I can't…"

"Meredith, please…"

"Leave her be," Wyatt instructed. "Derek, back off. Give her space."

Her vision was clouding due to the intense panic attack but Meredith felt the shadow that had previously been hovering over her retreat. With nothing except air surrounding her, Meredith gasped like there was an oxygen shortage, sobbed endlessly, and eventually, placed her head between her knees to prevent the darkness that was encroaching.

"She needs air," Derek's voice said; it sounded like he was fading farther away by the second. "Wyatt, she's gonna pass out. She… I… we need to do something!"

A few more beats passed, like a rapid pulse, and then Wyatt sighed. "Meredith, do you need a paper bag?"

"I… I'm sorry!" Meredith gasped and then coughed from the sudden onslaught of emotions. Derek patted her back, softly. "I'm… I didn't mean… I…"

"You don't need to apologize, Meredith," Wyatt said.

"Yes, I do… I… did you hear him…? Did you hear his… thing?!"

"Yes, I did. What are you feeling, Meredith?"

That was a good question. It was the stereotypical therapist question, the one that people imagined would be asked as they lay on an awkward bench beside a quiet, balding man as he wrote on his legal pad. _And how do you feel about that?_

The truth was that Meredith had no idea what she was feeling. She shrugged, weakly. "I don't know."

"That's alright. Take a minute and think but don't overthink, if that's possible," Wyatt said. "What stood out to you about Derek's letter?"

"I didn't cheat on you," Meredith whimpered, this time looking directly into Derek's eyes.

He nodded, slowly. "I… I wasn't saying… I didn't think…"

"I get why you'd ask. It's a logical thought and I don't remember everything from that night but I know I didn't cheat on you. Even drunk, I… I wouldn't do that," Meredith insisted.

"Okay," Derek agreed.

"And I don't remember how I got from the bar to the hospital. I… I'm not even sure I remember what bar I went to," Meredith continued. "It's an easy answer, though. If my car's in the parking lot somewhere, I… I obviously drove drunk and if it's not, then I didn't. One way or another, though, I… I've made a lot of mistakes and… and I don't blame you if you don't forgive me. I… wouldn't forgive me, if I were you."

Derek closed his eyes, sighing so deeply that the sound uttered from him was nearly a moan. He did not get to answer, though, because Wyatt chimed in again. "Okay, well let's not focus on that yet, Meredith. Forgiveness is a big word and I know we've already talked about it some, but there are other things to talk about, too. You answered some of Derek's questions. Why don't you tell us how you're _feeling_ now?"

"I… I told you. I don't know," Meredith said. "I feel… embarrassed… ashamed."

"Okay. Derek mentioned something in his letter about finding you in a bathtub. Can you tell me what that's about?"

"You know what that's about… we talked about it in therapy before. I drowned during my intern year. My heart stopped for like, an hour or something and it was a miracle they got me back without serious brain damage," Meredith said.

"And you felt like Meredith was trying to end her own life, then? When she had her incident in Elliott Bay?" Wyatt pressed, her eyes on Derek.

Derek shifted, uncomfortably. "I don't know… maybe. If she wasn't doing it then she… she did that morning."

Wyatt raised her eyebrows; this was news. "Meredith attempted to end her life that morning, before the drowning incident?"

"No, I did not," Meredith argued; she was interjected by Derek.

"Then what were you doing?! Dr. Wyatt, what would you call it if someone intentionally held themself underwater in the bathtub for a long period of time?"

Wyatt considered, her face as neutral as always. "It would depend on the circumstances, Derek. What is your version of this story, Meredith?"

"I wasn't trying to drown myself in the bathtub," Meredith explained. "I went under because… I don't know; maybe I was feeling a little melodramatic but I was holding my breath. I never would have inhaled water. I would have come out, whether or not Derek was there to save me."

"And then what happened later that day, at Elliott Bay?"

Wyatt had been the one to ask the question but Meredith turned towards Derek to answer. Derek was the one who deserved an answer. He had never been given a proper one… all the times that Derek had confronted his wife about that day, Meredith had avoided his inquiries. But now things were different. Meredith was in the psych ward and they were both in trauma therapy. There had been a shooting and a plane crash and Lexie was dying and there was no point in avoiding one another when ultimately, Meredith and Derek were two of the only people that could truly and completely understand one another.

"Derek, listen to me," Meredith said, her hands acting as a sandwich to Derek's beautiful yet wary face. "I was treating a patient with an open leg wound on the pier. He had climbed out of the water and he was… delusional with pain. He was flailing and yelling and he knocked me into the water. You're right; I could have fought harder… I should have kept fighting but just for a second, with everything else going on in my life, I thought… _what's the point? _And that was all it took. The water was freezing.

"When I woke-up… I've never been so relieved. I wanted to live. I wanted to live for you and Cristina and that's when I made the decision, when I knew I had to come get help… and I did. I got all whole and healed, remember?"

"I remember," Derek said, softly and shook his head. "Still… I never should have let you go to work that day. I should have made you come to therapy or… or talked with you at home. I understand mental illness; it runs in my family."

"The ferry crashed, Derek. We would have been paged into work anyway."

Derek shrugged, halfheartedly and fell silent. Wyatt took a deep breath. "Okay, so… Derek, forgive me, but this story you've told… this is why you had Meredith committed to inpatient psych in the first place?"

"I… maybe not consciously but… I think it might've been in the back of my mind," Derek confessed. "I'm just… I'm so afraid of losing you, Mer… I don't remember most of what happened in the woods and my imagination is… I have no idea what I missed. And I'm not 100 percent healthy yet so I can't care for you like I should…"

"You don't have to take care of me. I'm fine, I… I should be the one taking care of you," Meredith said.

"You should be taking care of each other," Wyatt corrected them. "And while we're on the subject… Derek's already made his big confession. Meredith, you wrote a letter to your husband, too. Why don't we get that out now?"

As if she was living another life, Meredith watched herself dig the folded notebook paper out of her scrub pocket and flatten it. The thing was pathetic. Compared to Derek's masterpiece, Meredith's letter was rushed, sloppy, and tear-stained, not to mention, written in golf pencil. She tried to suck in air to prepare herself yet Meredith's lungs were having trouble inhaling.

"Whenever you're ready, Meredith," Wyatt encouraged. "And remember, Derek… don't interrupt her while she reads. Listen to everything she says and think about everything she says before responding."

Derek nodded shortly and then Meredith opened her mouth. "Dear Derek… I have not been treating you fairly and I know that. I've lied to you, kept even more from you, and overall, not been the wife or mother that you and Zola deserve. If I thought that it would help, I would apologize a thousand times but saying sorry doesn't mean anything unless actions change as well. Still, I do want to say it once. I'm sorry about everything.

"I wish I could give you a better explanation for everything that's happened, too, but the truth is, I'm still figuring that out myself. One thing I can tell you, though, is something that I talked about with Dr. Wyatt recently. I know it might not seem that way, but all of my actions were done with nothing but the best intentions. I wanted to protect you. I remember your state, both physical and mental after the shooting. I never wanted you to feel even half of that suffering again and the truth is, you were injured far worse than me in the plane crash so I felt like it was my duty to take the brunt of the caretaking. I'm sure you can relate to the idea that it's far harder to watch someone you love suffer, than to suffer yourself.

"Besides, you're not the only person that's told me how strong I am. I'm Meredith Grey, whose dad abandoned her when she was five years old, whose mother was neglectful and abusive. I've always been the one who doesn't freeze during a crisis. I'm the one who holds everyone else up and that's always been what I like best about myself. Are there better characteristics than strength and resiliency? I'm not sure but I'm ashamed that I couldn't be the caregiver this time. Most of all, I'm sorry that I hurt you and I'm going to do everything I can to make things better now, for both of us. I love you."

She had made it through her speech without crying. That was a miracle in itself. Meredith paused, briefly, so Derek would have a chance to respond, if he wished, and when he was momentarily silent, Meredith continued, off-script.

"Also, um… I just wanna add that… I know substance abuse is a sensitive subject for you and that was… that was the main reason I tried as hard as I did to get off the pills. That was the reason I didn't flat-out ask you to write me a prescription or let you go to Wyatt and ask her for my refill. I know I've treated you unfairly, lots of times um… I seriously jeopardized both of our careers a year ago. I'm still conflicted, every day, over that choice, but… but if I hurt you, then I know I was in the wrong. I'm… I'm sorry."

Now she was crying. Meredith was embarrassed and she did not know why but her eyes were wet as she stared down at her legs, quivering with anxiety.

If Meredith did not know better, she would have thought that Derek was withholding tears, as well. His face had gone rather pale and when Derek spoke, his voice was hoarse. "I… I don't know what to say."

"That's alright. Take your time, Derek. Can you tell us what you're feeling?" Wyatt asked.

"Um… I… I don't know, guilty? I didn't think I was going to walk out of this situation feeling guilty but…" Derek took a deep breath and turned towards Meredith. "Did I do something? Did I do something, say something, to make you feel like you couldn't trust me? I didn't mean… when I said you hold everyone else up…"

"It's not your fault, Derek," Meredith said.

"Okay, well… just because you're strong, that doesn't mean you're not allowed to struggle, Meredith," Derek said. "I don't know what all happened out in the woods but like I said, I… I can imagine. I know you helped me when I was in pretty bad shape. I know you helped Lexie. I'd be concerned if you weren't struggling, to some degree, after that."

"Have you been concerned about Meredith in these last few weeks, before the incident on Thursday, Derek?" Wyatt pressed. "Because unless I'm wrong, Meredith was hiding a lot from both of us."

Derek's shoulder twitched, indicating his lack of knowledge. "I… yeah, I mean… I'm always worried about everyone that was on that plane. But I was also under the impression that Meredith was processing her trauma with you."

"I see," Wyatt said. "Well, I don't typically use this phrase in trauma therapy, but Meredith, Derek… the past is the past. Both of you made errors. Meredith, you should have been more open with your husband and I know you're aware of this. Derek, I'm not saying you should have been in the position to pry information out of your wife, but knowing her history, you could have been more open-minded, as well. There's no use agonizing over your poor choices now, though. It is what it is and you've cleared things up. The only thing to do is move forward."

"That's the problem," Meredith snorted. "I'm having a hard time moving anywhere. I just… I just keep seeing these same scenes replay in my mind. I wake-up and… I'm terrified, all the time."

"What are you scared of, Mer?" Derek asked, stroking his wife's hand, gently.

"Everything. I'm scared of everything and I… I'm scared I'm never gonna be able to be a surgeon again after the procedures I performed in the field. Every cut's gonna remind me of that. That's… dammit, that's why we're not allowed to treat family."

The question that had been looming in the air ever since the session began was finally brought to the surface by Derek. "What did you do out there, Mer? What did you have to do to Lexie and me?"

Meredith had not even let her mind go there, consciously, yet her stomach immediately dropped to the floor. Her respirations sped up and Meredith's hand, which Derek was gripping, became clammy.

Wyatt spoke, softly. "You don't have to go there yet if you're not ready, Meredith. Just tell Derek the truth, either way."

"I'm… I'm not ready," Meredith admitted and peeked at Derek through the curtain of hair that was covering her face. "D-Do you remember… um… after I nearly drowned… do you remember how you said you were always afraid I was going to stop breathing?"

"I do," Derek whispered, nodding.

"That's how I am all the time. I usually can't sleep but… but even when I can, I always wake up and I just watch you sleep to make sure you don't stop breathing. I brought a portable AED home from the hospital… in case I had to use it."

"Oh, God," Derek sighed. He bridged the small gap separating the couple on the couch, cupped his wife's chin in his hand; Meredith could feel her husband's inconsistent breath on her face. "Mer, I'm not going anywhere… I promise. I'm right here, okay?"

"I… I know, I just…"

"I know. I know, you don't have to explain," Derek said. He leaned forward and for the first time in days, Meredith felt Derek's lips pressed against her own. The kiss was so tender; a layer of Meredith's anxiety could not help but melt away.

Wyatt cleared her throat, reminding both patients that she was in the room. "Alright, well… I think that's about enough for the day."

Surprisingly, Meredith did not want the therapy session to end. Or maybe that was not quite right… she was emotionally exhausted and eager to stop this heavy conversation, but Meredith was dreading saying goodbye to Derek. She wove her fingers between his, squeezed his healthy hand.

"You've both made incredible progress today; I hope you know that," Wyatt continued. "Normally, I'd ask each of you for a takeaway from the hour, but in this instance, Derek already summed it up in his earlier statement. Do you remember?"

Neither patient spoke so Wyatt smiled. "Just because you're strong, that doesn't mean you're not allowed to struggle."

"Oh… right, yeah," Meredith said. That was still something she would have to work on accepting. "Okay, so… when do we think I'm gonna be able to go home?"

"Soon," Wyatt said. "We need to give it a couple more days, simply because of all the new chemicals in your body. I don't know if Meredith told you, Derek, but I have started her on two new medications so if she mentions them, it's completely legal. I have her on Sertraline for depression and Hydroxyzine for anxiety and sleep."

Derek nodded in agreement. "Okay, but… you know, I'm a doctor, too, and I'm gonna be more observant. If Meredith has any kind of reaction to the drugs, I'll be monitoring her."

"That's good to know, but I'm still going to have to wait a few days," Wyatt explained. "Like it or not, both of you are still recovering and we dug up a lot of fresh emotions today. I'd rather wait and make sure that Meredith is stable. Meredith, I need you to try and attend at least three groups before discharge."

"Okay… I didn't get a chance to start my list, yet, by the way," Meredith added. "I was working on my letter to Derek so… so I didn't get a chance to do that."

"There's no rush," Wyatt said. "We have plenty of time for that. Derek, if you have a spare moment at home, I encourage you to make a similar list."

"A list of… what?"

"Write down ten words," Meredith instructed. "Five words that you associate with the shooting and five words that you associate with the plane crash."

"Okay," Derek agreed; he was visibly trying not to be intimidated.

"Okay," Meredith repeated and leaned forward to peck him quickly on the lips. "I guess that's my cue…"

"Hold on," Derek said, ignoring Wyatt who had gone to open the door to her office for the couple. "I just want you to know… Karev and I have started packing up the house. Even Zola's helping a little. We're going to move into the dream house as soon as it's finished, okay?"

_The Dream House… _it had been nothing more than a fantasy for so long but the thought of actually living in the mansion with the most important person in her life made Meredith's heart rise with hope. "Yeah, okay…"

"And then Karev is going to start moving his things from his guest room over to our master bedroom because… well, it's been decided that he isn't going to Hopkins," Derek continued.

"Alex isn't leaving? B-But he gave them his word…"

"Yeah, and we gave Harvard and Brigham our word, too. Things change."

_Things change._ That was the understatement of the decade. Meredith nodded, her heart slowly climbing her ribcage. "Okay, um… that's… that's good, then, I guess."

"I'll see you soon, okay?" Derek said, his arms wrapped around Meredith in one last embrace. "Call me tomorrow. I'll be here, with Karev and Zola, whenever you're ready."

"Wait…" Meredith stalled again. "I… Cristina. Have you heard from Cristina at all?"

"I haven't, but I turned off your phone before taking it home so I'm not sure if she's been texting or anything. Would you like me to call her for you, let her know what's going on?"

"No," Meredith pleaded. "No, I don't want her to know about any of this. Don't tell her and if she contacts you at all, please just tell her that everything's fine. Tell Owen, too, so he doesn't say anything."

"Well, Cristina might have asked him what happened in the meeting with the lawyers and… and he is her husband, technically," Derek started and when Meredith did not speak, sighed. "But I'll see what I can do… what's this about, anyway? Why are the twisted sisters not talking?"

Meredith rolled her eyes. "It's… a long story. I'll explain more when I'm home. I love you."

"I love you more."

That was it. Meredith was escorted back to the Adult Intermediate Unit and informed by Kayla that a grief group was preparing to begin. It was crucial to participate, if Meredith wanted to be released from the psych ward, but there was one thing that she had to do first.

With less than one minute until the patient phones shut off to encourage group attendance, Meredith rushed to the nearest one and punched in one of the few numbers she had memorized by heart.

After five anxiety-inducing rings, Mark Sloan picked up. "Hello…"

"Mark, it's Meredith. Look, I just had a couples' therapy session with Derek and we talked about a lot of… emotional stuff. I'm gonna be stuck here for another day or two and I… I really want to make sure he's okay cause I know he puts a lot of guilt on himself. Can you please call him, watch out for him, tonight especially?"

Any doubt that had previously filled Meredith's pessimistic mind faded away with Mark's firm, kind voice. "Don't worry, Big Grey. I'm already hanging out at your house with Zola and Sofia, waiting for him. Take care of yourself now, okay?"

**MTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTB**

Meredith was mentally and emotionally exhausted from her hour with Wyatt and Derek. Her brain was in overdrive and she wanted nothing more than to collapse in her private room, regardless of the mattress quality. Instead, though, Meredith was seated at a circular table with a social worker and five fellow patients. All of them had been given composition books and golf pencils and everyone except for Meredith had connected pencil and paper.

According to the social worker, the goal in this group was to write letters to whomever or whatever one was grieving. Sharing these notes when finished was not required, yet encouraged.

_Remember, you can grieve something in addition to someone,_ the social worker had announced prior to their session, like she understood anything about true loss.

Meredith looked around at her peers. Everyone else was writing, consistently. The large African American woman on Meredith's left had written _Dear Mike_ across the top of her paper. How was it so easy?

Perhaps Meredith had sat there, doing nothing longer than she originally thought because suddenly, there was a tap on her right shoulder. The social worker, Alyson according to her badge, had knelt down next to her patient. "Are we having a hard time, Ms. Meredith?"

"I just can't think of anything to say," Meredith said. It was both a lie and the truth.

"If you don't mind me asking, to whom or what is your letter addressed?" Alyson inquired.

Meredith did not plan on ever actually writing this letter, but for the time being, she needed an answer. "Um… my friend, George. He was hit by a bus and killed, three years ago."

"That's tragic. I'm very sorry for your loss, Meredith. You were close with George, I assume?"

"Yes. He was one of my best friends."

"Well, then try to just pretend that George is sitting next to you. What would you want to tell him?"

_Nothing because George isn't sitting next to me. George is dead and I'll never talk to him again,_ Meredith thought but did not voice this aloud. She pretended to consider, and shrugged. "I… I don't know… that I miss him… that I'll always love him."

"Okay, just start there and see what comes out," Alyson said so Meredith did as she was told. She wrote _Dear George_ across the top of her paper and then the words, _I miss you. I love you_ underneath that. It was enough to buy her some time and thankfully, Meredith was not asked to share her letter at the end of the group. She listened to the others that wished to read their notes, and commented on her peers' beautiful choice of words.

And then, because she knew better than to continue isolating, Meredith spent the rest of her day playing cards with Shelby, snacking on graham crackers and peanut butter, and coloring a pretty mandela for Zola.

Meredith had not colored since she was a toddler; arts and crafts were pointless, according to Ellis Grey, but surprisingly, Meredith did enjoy the activity. Keeping each shade within its designated space reminded her of performing surgery.

Early the next morning, after a restless night on her uncomfortable psychiatric mattress, Meredith was awoken by a new tech named Jen. Her vitals were measured, like usual, and Jen also provided Meredith with some good news.

"Your nurse wanted me to let you know that you'll be meeting with Dr. Wyatt after breakfast to discuss your discharge plan."

"Does that mean I get to go home?" Meredith asked.

"Probably soon but I'm not a doctor so don't quote me on that," Jen said.

Maybe due to the medication change, Meredith's appetite had vanished again overnight. It was difficult to choke down a bland helping of biscuits and gravy for breakfast, and the underripe banana was worse. Fasting was another easy method to delay discharge, though, so Meredith ate as much as she could before following Jen across the hall to Wyatt's office.

"Okay, Meredith," Wyatt said when they were situated on the sofa. "I know we've had two emotional sessions in as many days so I'm not going to keep you too long but I wanted to get your opinion on a few things, first and foremost, yesterday's session with Derek."

Couples' therapy had been a whirlwind of emotions… grief, anger, relief, and heartbreak. Meredith sighed. "I mean… I don't know. I guess it went as well as can be expected."

"Do you feel like you're going to have less difficulty when it comes to communicating with Derek?"

"I hope so… I mean… yeah, I think we'll be better."

Wyatt nodded and wrote something quickly on her legal pad. "And how has the change in medication been treating you? Are you feeling any different?"

"Again, I… I don't know," Meredith said, honestly. "I feel better than when I came in, I think, but I'm not sure if that's because of the medicine or the therapy."

"In all likelihood, it's a combination of both but the Sertraline, in particular, is going to take a while to work its way into your system," Wyatt said. "Mostly what I want to know is if you're experiencing any negative side effects like nausea, vertigo, worsened psychiatric symptoms…"

Meredith shook her head. "No, none of that. Does that mean that I can go home?"

"I might be willing to authorize discharge tomorrow if everything continues to go well but you have to promise me something, Meredith."

The patient grew silent so Wyatt continued. "First of all, you have to promise that you will show up regularly for your therapy sessions with me and be honest with me if you are having any suicidal thoughts."

"I was already doing that. I'm not suicidal," Meredith said.

"Okay, but you were also not being entirely honest with me," Wyatt corrected her. "I need you to tell the absolute truth about everything, even if it hurts… especially if it hurts. And I need you to be honest with Derek, too, to the best of your ability."

"I will. I'm not gonna get drunk anymore, Dr. Wyatt… I know I endangered a lot of people," Meredith promised.

"That's good to hear. Actually, I would advise you to totally refrain from alcohol for the time being. And one more thing, Meredith," Wyatt said and paused. "This is not an ultimatum as much as it is a concern. I want to talk about the grief group you attended yesterday, after our session with Derek."

"What about it?"

"My colleague, Alyson, informed me that you were having a difficult time writing a letter to your friend who passed away… George, I believe?"

"Oh, well… I wasn't really trying that hard, I guess," Meredith admitted. "I'd just had the long, emotional talk with you and Derek and I had just written a long, emotional letter to Derek. I'm sorry but George just hasn't been the one consistently on my mind lately."

"Then why did you choose to write to him in the first place? Why not write to Lexie?"

_Because that would have been way harder,_ Meredith thought and internally scoffed. That was probably the point.

"I know I just gave you the other letter assignment, the letter to Derek, but I think that turned out fairly well," Wyatt continued. "Would you be willing to try writing a letter to Lexie, too?"

"Why would I do that? It's not like Lexie is going to write something in response to me," Meredith said.

"No, but it may help bring you some closure, all the same. You've mentioned that your father plans to keep Lexie on life support, indefinitely. Unfortunately, with him being her healthcare proxy, there's nothing we can do to control that, but we can control your emotional involvement. Write down everything you wish you could say to Lexie and if you would like, go and read the letter to her. As you know, there's no medical proof that Lexie can or cannot hear you but… like I said, you could tell her goodbye just as you would if she was coming off life support."

The idea was solid, yet also something that Meredith could never imagine herself doing. "I… I don't know. It's like… I don't want her to die in slow motion. B-But I'm also not ready to say goodbye."

"You're never going to be ready to say goodbye, especially to someone that is so young, someone that means so much to you," Wyatt said. "And this isn't something that you have to do right away, Meredith. It's not a homework assignment. Like we've already said, your primary focus needs to be taking care of yourself. If your father really is going to keep Lexie on the ventilator indefinitely, then you have time. Focus on yourself and your family. If there comes a moment where you feel the need to bring yourself closure, you have an outlet."

Writing a letter like that would be horrible, even worse than the note Meredith had penned to Derek. It was the closest thing to a dignified death that Meredith would be able to give Lexie, though, and she owed her sister so much more. Meredith took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay, I… I'll try."

"That's all I ask of you, Dr. Grey."

**MTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTB**

Surgery was black and white, at least in comparison with other medical specialties. That was what Meredith liked about the discipline. There were exceptions, instances where the surgeon had to dig deeper to understand what was causing a patient's symptoms, but nine times out of ten, Meredith's job in the operating room was simple… remove the tumor. Suture the lacerated liver. Transplant the kidney.

Psychiatry was different. There was no blanket cure for depression and anxiety, schizophrenia or PTSD. Everyone's brains responded differently to the small amount of treatments available for mental illness and some people did not respond at all.

Still, in Meredith's opinion, there had to be a better way to run a self-esteem group than by utilizing a giant, plastic sphere, similar to a beach ball with motivational prompts written on each side.

The Adult Intermediate patients, eleven of them in all, sat in a circle alongside a social worker. Everyone got a turn, or to be more specific, several turns, to toss the beach ball into the air and whichever phrase faced them when the ball landed, was the following topic of discussion. Fifteen minutes into the class, they had talked about fears, favorite colors, siblings, and inspiring quotes. Meredith remained mostly quiet. She knew that she was supposed to contribute, especially if she wanted to be released tomorrow, but it was awkward and Meredith was exhausted from a morning group which consisted of traveling to the hospital's gym.

Meredith did not even exercise in regular life, not unless she counted running to Code Blues. Why would she want to sit on a stationary bike, pedaling for thirty minutes straight? Psych really was crap.

Regardless, the one detail Meredith had offered to the self-esteem group thus far took place during the sibling conversation. The social worker had asked if she had any siblings and Meredith said, "No."

Unlike in the past, Meredith was not ashamed of her relation to Lexie. But she just did not want to open that can of worms and be forced to talk about Lexie's condition.

Meredith was fifth in line for the ball so when the last inspiring quote had been shared, she was passed the huge, white thing by an African American woman with a huge Afro. Meredith contemplated refusing her turn and simply passing the beach ball onto Shelby. If she wanted to be reunited with Derek, though, that would not be the wisest decision so Meredith delicately tossed the beach ball into the air.

It landed with a flat inquiry facing the sky: _What do you consider your biggest accomplishment thus far in life?_

This was evidently supposed to help patients focus on their abilities, yet Meredith cringed. "Um… it's the one about your biggest accomplishments."

"Biggest accomplishments!" the social worker repeated, enthusiastically. "That's an interesting one. Why don't you start us off, Meredith? We haven't heard much from you."

"Um… okay," Meredith said and then froze. What was she supposed to say? Graduating medical school? Graduating from residency? Performing successful brain surgery, start to finish? Any of those options were sure to invite dozens of questions from the social worker and other patients. Someone might even recognize Meredith as a plane crash victim and announce this to the group.

"Come on sweetie, don't be shy. What's one thing you've done that you're proud of?" the social worker pressed.

"I… graduation. Probably graduation," Meredith finally said.

"Okay, that's a good one. What kind of graduation? High school? College?"

"College."

"You're lucky," a tall white man with glasses said. "I wish I'd gone to college when I was young."

"Well, there's still time for that. It's never too late," the social worker encouraged. "What's your degree in, Meredith?"

"Um… biology."

"Wow, not many people have the brains to specialize in something like that," Shelby remarked. "You must be super smart. Did you wanna be a doctor, at one point?"

"At… at one point," Meredith smiled weakly and allowed the discussion to move on. Shelby talked about how her biggest accomplishment was working at Taco Bell.

As soon as the group was over, Meredith jogged out onto the unit and claimed one of the two available patient phones. She had met Wyatt's request and attended three groups. That only meant one thing.

Derek answered on the third ring, his voice borderline frantic. "Hello? Meredith?!"

"Hi," Meredith whispered and listened as Derek breathed out air, relieved.

"Hi. How are you feeling?"

"I'm… good. I'm better," Meredith said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Yesterday, after I got home from the hospital, Mark was at the house. We hung out, watched the Mariners game," Derek said.

Meredith, of course, had already known about this, although she pretended to be surprised. "Oh, that sounds like fun. I worked out this morning."

"You worked out?" The shock in Derek's tone was obvious.

"Yeah, the deal with Wyatt was that I had to go to three groups in order to get discharged, remember?"

"Oh, right… so… so what's the verdict? When are you getting out of there?"

Meredith allowed a pause to build dramatic effect. "Hmm… would you be okay with seeing my face tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?! Really?!"

"Yeah, we get served breakfast at around 8:00 and Dr. Wyatt said it was okay if I leave directly after that, so probably around 8:45 or 9:00."

"I'll be there," Derek promised and Meredith could not help but grin. Only a few short days ago, Derek had not felt comfortable bringing Meredith home at all. Now, he was clearly excited and that had to mean that progress had been made.

"You should tell Zola," Meredith said. "Tell her that Mommy's coming home tomorrow."

"I'll probably tell her tomorrow morning, before we leave. Otherwise, she'll be driving me crazy for the rest of the day, asking to go get Mommy now."

Meredith smiled. "I miss her a lot. She knows that, right?"

"Of course she knows that, Meredith. I've told her everyday how much Mommy misses her and loves her. She's wanted to come visit, too, but I… I told her that you were sick and contagious so…" Derek trailed off and although they were several miles apart, Meredith could feel anxiety fill her husband.

"It's okay," she insisted. "That's best… kids under eighteen aren't allowed to visit here anyway."

"Yeah, I know. But maybe I should have told her the truth," Derek said.

"No, you shouldn't have… she's not even two yet, Derek. She wouldn't understand, even if you were completely honest. Saying that Mommy's sick… that's the right thing to do. It's true, I… I am sick."

"But you're getting better," Derek said.

"I am better," Meredith agreed. "So… anything else? I'll see you tomorrow?"

It was Derek's turn to become quiet. He sighed down the phone. "Hold on… Mer, um… I think it's probably best that I tell you this now, while you're still in the hospital…"

Meredith's stomach dropped several stories. "Oh, no… is it Lexie?"

"What? No, I… Lexie's the same, according to Mark," Derek said. "I just… I thought you would want to know that when I left the hospital yesterday, I had Karev drive me in a loop around the Seattle Grace lot. And um… I just wanted to tell you that… I found your car."

"M-My car?" That only meant one thing, too. Meredith had driven from an unknown bar to the hospital while severely intoxicated. It was flat-out humiliating… mortifying. Even when Meredith's drinking had been at its worst, through college and her intern year, she had never been stupid enough to drive drunk. There were too many trauma victims brought to emergency rooms across the country, courtesy of impaired drivers… it was a leading cause of deaths.

To put it simply, Meredith was speechless. How was she supposed to apologize for this? How was she supposed to forgive herself for this? Nearly killing herself was one thing but almost killing any number of innocent people was a whole new ballgame.

"I… I don't know what to say," Meredith muttered, just as Derek had yesterday in therapy.

"Yeah, I… I didn't really know what to think either. How drunk were you, Mer?"

"I mean, you saw me. You remember it more than I do. I was in pretty bad shape, right?"

"Yeah," Derek whispered and then cleared his throat. "Anyway, I… I'm not meaning to lecture you or anything. I know we already talked about all this yesterday and you apologized and you don't need to apologize again. I know your mindset was… I just… I thought you'd want me to be honest."

"I… I do. Thank you," Meredith said and then because she had to, apologized again. "Derek? I… I really am sorry."

"I know. I know you are…"

Meredith wiped at the tears that were developing, refusing to let them drop from her eyes. "I… I don't want to be that girl… you know, begging her husband for forgiveness…"

"You're not that girl. You're already forgiven, Meredith. You know that."

"R-Really? Cause… cause I wouldn't blame you if…"

"It's done," Derek interrupted. "You're safe. That's all that matters now. And things are going to change now, right?"

Meredith nodded, despite the fact that Derek couldn't see her. "Things are going to change. I promise. But I need you to listen to me, okay? I need you to listen to me and understand my viewpoint and… and tell me if I'm doing something stupid."

"You know I will," Derek said, chuckling lightly. "And I need you to talk to me. Tell me if my ego's getting in the way or… if there's something I can do that'll make it easier for you. Can you do that for me, Mer?"

For Derek… for Alex… for Zola. "I can do that. I will do that. I love you. I'll see you tomorrow."

_**Please don't forget to favorite/follow and most importantly, REVIEW! I hope you enjoyed. Chapter 31 should be up in the next week sometime as well. Love you all so much and thank you for supporting this story and myself through my crazy schedule. Xoxo, merderpedia :)**_


	31. Slow Healing Heart

_**Author's Note- Here is Chapter 31! I hope you enjoy. Also, I just want to post a reminder that I do not own Grey's Anatomy or its characters. If I did, there would be much better closure for both Justin Chambers and the character of Alex Karev. Stay strong, Grey's fandom. **_

Eternity seemed to pass as Meredith waited for the breakfast cart to arrive. She had not slept well. Nightmares plagued her brain, thanks in part to the overnight tech who had turned out Meredith's bedroom light, and once Meredith woke-up screaming in the darkness, she refused to shut her eyes again. It really did not matter, though. Even if Meredith had slept soundlessly, she had a feeling that breakfast would come too slowly. As excited as Meredith was to leave the psych ward, she was a jumbled mess of other emotions.

Nervous… why was Meredith nervous? She should be nothing but ecstatic to go home and be reunited with her husband and daughter.

_Stop it, you dumbass,_ Meredith told herself. In her last session with Wyatt, the therapist had ridiculed her frequent use of the word _should._

_There is no one way you should recover from trauma. However you feel is how you feel and there is no reason to apologize._

That was easier said than done. From a young age, Meredith had been taught that there was a right way to do everything. If one was not successful in coping with trauma, what options were there? Suicide?

When the breakfast cart finally showed up, Meredith could have sworn that it never took so long to consume eggs and toast. The other patients were chatting, complaining about the mediocre quality of Seattle Grace's sausage, and then begging for an early medication pass. Meredith's nurse for the day, Tamera, even insisted upon dosing Meredith before she left, in case she later forgot to take her antidepressants.

At last, when the morning pills had been dispensed and Tamera was free, the two women walked off the unit together, Meredith clutching her composition book and the mandela coloring page for Zola.

Tamera escorted Meredith to a nearby bathroom where she was given the opportunity to change out of her paper scrubs and into an outfit that Derek must have brought for her; it consisted of jeans, a black bra, matching underwear, and to Meredith's pleasure, one of Derek's Bowdoin t-shirts. The thing was extremely oversized, practically fitting Meredith like a dress, but there was no other way she would have wanted to leave the hospital. A fresh pair of converse completed her look. Derek must have ventured out to a mall and bought them because Meredith's old shoes had been damaged beyond repair in the plane crash.

When she was dressed, Tamera helped Meredith into a wheelchair and pushed her onto an elevator which took them downstairs to Seattle Grace's primary entrance and exit. There, waiting beside Alex in the front seat of his Volvo, was Derek, and since the vehicle was not in motion, Zola sat on his lap.

"Zo-Zo!" Meredith cried, opening her arms wide. "Come here; I've missed you!"

"There you go, Dr. Grey; you're free," Tamera said, cutting the hospital bracelet off Meredith's wrist. "Good luck."

Meredith paid the nurse no attention. Her brain was not healed, but thanks to Dr. Wyatt and her prescription pad, Meredith was in better shape than she had been since the plane had originally gone down. In summary, that meant that Meredith could finally appreciate her daughter for what she was worth.

"Are you ready to hug Mommy?" Derek asked Zola and when the child nodded eagerly, he passed her over to Meredith.

"MOMMY!" Zola sang, throwing a pair of miniature arms around her mother. "Mommy sick?!"

"I was sick but I'm better now," Meredith said. "Mommy's coming home now."

Quickly, she got Zola situated in her carseat and prepared to climb into the back next to her daughter but was stopped by Derek. "Hold on, don't I get a hug?"

"Oh, I… sorry," Meredith said and folded herself into her husband's arms. "I missed you. Are you okay?"

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that question?"

"I… well, I just wondered because… well, we've all been emotional…"

"I'm fine. Are you good? Are you ready to go?"

"More than ready," Meredith smiled.

Derek offered to let her sit in the front next to Alex yet just like when Derek himself had been discharged from the ICU, Meredith opted to sit in back with Zola. She grinned at Alex, who was behind the wheel of his Volvo, anxiously tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. "Hey… I hear you decided to put up with me a little longer?"

"Yeah, peds is already short one doctor with Robbins gone and Hunt offered me the fellowship so I went with it," Alex explained. "Plus, I mean… Hopkins just wasn't meant to be. Every time I was ready to leave, something ended up happening… Lexie had a stroke, Arizona went septic, you… had your thing…"

"Right," Meredith said. She knew that her friend meant well, but part of Alex's comment had rubbed her the wrong way. "So… all that… Lexie's stroke and Arizona going septic… that was all meant to be?"

Alex shrugged and snorted, simultaneously. "I… don't know. The universe is messed up, Mer. We know that."

That was true. Meredith dropped the subject. When they arrived at 613 Harper Lane, Meredith helped Zola out of the car and followed everyone inside, only to find the living room unrecognizable.

"What the hell happened here?" Meredith asked, staring at the blank walls, the space that was empty other than several dozen cardboard boxes, stacked on top of one another.

"I told you… Karev and I have been working hard, packing," Derek said. "I didn't touch your stuff, don't worry but any day now, we're gonna be able to make the big move."

"To the dream house?"

"To the dream house."

"And you're buying this place?" Meredith pressed, although she directed this question towards Alex.

"Yeah, I mean… it's a beautiful house and I know I'll get a better deal from you two than I would on the regular market. I want to settle down, Mer. I don't mean I'm aiming to get married or anything but… I'm making 300 grand this year. I want to have my own place, my own things."

Derek had informed Meredith of all this in the hospital, of course, but Meredith had not been in her right mind. Recovering from her drunken episode, Meredith had expressed nothing but anger at Derek for allowing Alex to purchase the house without first consulting her.

The plan was ideal, though. Alex was staying in Seattle and if he was living in Ellis Grey's old house, that would ensure that Meredith still got to see her childhood residence.

"That's good. You deserve it," Meredith said and Alex smiled.

"Okay, who's up for brunch?" Derek called from the kitchen.

The day passed, somewhat leisurely. According to Mark, who stopped by mid-afternoon, Owen was working on arranging a new meeting with Bayview Aeronautics but they were not rushing this conference, considering what had happened at the last one. Several of the plane crash survivors were unstable, physically and mentally; they needed additional time to recover before starting the legal journey.

Meredith managed to pack up some of her clothes, too, and a majority of her textbooks from medical school. They chose to leave Zola's toys out until the last possible moment to prevent tantrums.

Monday night, after Alex had fallen asleep on the living room couch, Meredith and Derek made their way to the master bedroom and climbed into bed together.

"It's good to have you home," Derek sighed. His eyes seemed to be shining brighter, bluer than normal and Derek's raven-colored hair had never looked so gorgeous.

Perhaps it was because Meredith had not been alone with her husband in several days, or because the Sertraline was making its presence known in her bloodstream. It was impossible to decipher, but it was like Meredith had never adequately appreciated the man that was Derek Shepherd.

"It's good to be home," Meredith cooed. Breathing deeply, she inched herself a bit closer to her husband. "I can't believe it's been almost two months."

"Since the plane crash?"

"Since we had sex."

Derek looked at his wife, a bemused expression on his face. "Well, to be fair, we did give it our best effort last week."

"Yeah, but we almost injured each other in the process," Meredith said. "I feel better now, don't you?"

"I… I do…"

"Really?"

His answer had been affirmative, yet there was something uncertain about Derek's body language. He was hesitant about engaging in intimacy with Meredith and there was no quicker way to kill the mood. The only instances in the past where either of them had declined sex was after the shooting, when they were physically incapable of making love, Derek due to his gunshot wound and Meredith, from her miscarriage.

"Derek," Meredith whispered. "Don't you… don't you want to…?"

"Trust me, I do," Derek said. "I… I'm not sure if tonight is the night, though."

"Is something hurting? Are you still hurt?"

"Well, my hand is tender but that's not the reason I think we should wait," Derek confessed and as hard as she tried otherwise, Meredith deflated. "It's just… Mer, you were in the hospital this morning."

"So?"

"So I think we've both learned in the past that throwing ourselves onto one another… that's not the right way to heal from a trauma."

"Yeah, but I didn't think we were in trauma therapy at the moment," Meredith said. "I thought we were just reunited for the first time in almost a week and… and I want to have sex with my husband for the first time in two months but apparently he doesn't want to have sex with me."

"I didn't say…"

Another thought popped into Meredith's overworked brain. "You're still mad, aren't you? Are you mad about me trying to manage everything on my own and having a mental breakdown? Or about me driving drunk or us not moving to Boston? Because I didn't send that email and…"

"Meredith," Derek interjected; he placed his healthy hand on the side of his wife's face. It was like she had taken clonazepam; Meredith's heart rate calmed on cue. She managed to breathe long enough for Derek to speak.

"I'm not mad at you… and I'm not mad at myself either. I'm definitely not mad about Boston. Maybe I was frustrated at first because I… I don't know; I felt like you were giving up your dreams for me but now I… I understand. We have the rest of our lives to move back to the east coast. Right now, you need it here, in Seattle."

A majority of the nerves in Meredith's body relaxed. She rested her head back onto Derek's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I knew I was going to flip out and… and get paranoid all over again once I was out of the hospital."

"Do you feel like you need to go back? Do you feel like… I don't know, like… hurting yourself?" Derek prompted, clearly uncomfortable.

"No, and I never did," Meredith sighed. "I just… I feel like Cristina is running away. She's leaving the small group of people who actually understand what we went through and if we went to Boston, I would be doing the same thing."

"I know," Derek said. "Have you talked with Cristina at all? Told her about your… incident?"

Meredith shook her head. "I know it's dumb. I know we're acting like children but… I'm too ashamed. When Cristina left, she was treating me like I was going to snap. Like because I was staying in Seattle, something else horrible was going to happen… and if I call her and tell her, it's going to prove that she was right."

"I'm pretty sure your breakdown was going to happen whether or not you stayed in Seattle," Derek said. "I mean, one way or another, you were going to be involved in Lexie's care, right? And you were avoiding therapy. Cristina cares about you. She'd want to know. You never know, she might be going through the exact same thing."

It was possible. Owen had not mentioned anything to Meredith and unless something had changed, Owen was still his wife's emergency contact so he likely would have been notified if she was hospitalized in Minnesota. Regardless, a certain piece of Meredith knew that she was jealous of Cristina for being able to take off across the country and go back to work. It was supposed to be her, Cristina, that was plagued with PTSD for months on end, not Meredith.

But Derek was right. He had spewed one of his perfect, McDreamy speeches and Meredith was stupid for fighting him.

"Okay, I'll call Cristina. I'll call her soon but you've got to give me time. I need to figure some stuff out, adjust back to life and… and be a good mother because I have not been paying Zola enough attention."

"You've been doing your best," Derek smiled.

"Well, I need to do better. She deserves better. Her parents were supposed to be gone in Boise for one day… less than a day. And then they were gone for over a week and when they came back, they were hurt and… and traumatized."

Derek tilted his head to one side; it was his beautiful, signature movement… the movement that practically stopped Meredith's heart every single time she witnessed it. "Meredith… is this about your mother?"

"My mother?"

"Yes, what you told me about your mother the other day… the way she hurt herself in front of you."

"No," Meredith said, honestly. "No, I've made my peace with that. I do want to be a better mother than my mother was, though and… and right now, I really don't know if I am."

"Don't say that," Derek urged. "You want Zola. That alone makes you a better mother than Ellis Grey but for the record, you are nothing like your mother. Your talent for general surgery is the only thing that you inherited from her."

A grin crept its way back onto Meredith's face. "Well, that and the early-onset Alzheimer's…"

"We don't know that you inherited that. We know you inherited the gene but that doesn't mean anything and we've already had this discussion so many times. Let's drop it… for now. Let's focus on the short term… moving into the dream house."

"Is that why you wanted to wait?" Meredith asked, raising her eyebrows, playfully.

The prominent pink color that Derek's face had turned gave the truth away. "I just… personally, I can't imagine a better way. Our first time in more than two months… it should be the first night in the dream house."

"When are we moving?"

"Soon… as soon as you finish packing and I can get some people over here to help us. Mark's walking better so he might be of some use. Callie said she would help if she can get away from Arizona long enough."

At the mention of Arizona, Meredith's smile faltered slightly. "Have you talked with Mark? Is she doing any better?"

Derek shook his head, his own expression growing dark. "No… still depressed and pissed at the world. I can't say I blame her; I would be a wreck if my leg had been cut off but Mark's really mad at the way she's treating Callie. You know it… it could be so much worse."

Neither had said her name aloud but they had worked the conversation back around to Lexie. Meredith sighed and curled down into the cocoon of blankets. "I'm supposed to write a letter to her… Wyatt said it might help me find closure. I'm supposed to write a letter and read it to her in the ICU."

"That sounds like a good idea. I… I mean, under the circumstances… it might help," Derek acknowledged.

"Maybe but it's weird. It's like… I would rather her die right here and now than have everything be drawn out… but at the same time, I'm not ready to say goodbye," Meredith said.

With his head still tilted and his lips pressed into a sad, sympathetic smile, Derek nodded. "I know… but there's good news. You don't have to be ready yet. You can be ready whenever you want. In the meantime, we can hope for a miracle."

"Fairytales and magic?" Meredith smirked. "Maybe Lexie will wake up if I go and read her a super dramatic letter… if I cry and Mark professes his love for her."

"You never know. There are medical miracles. You're proof of that," Derek said. Gently, he wrapped his good arm around his wife and reached to turn off the bedside lamp.

_I need you to talk to me. Tell me if my ego's getting in the way or… if there's something I can do that'll make it easier for you. Can you do that for me, Mer?_

"Derek, wait!" Meredith gasped, just as the bedroom turned dark.

"What's wrong?"

"I… I thought of something that you can do… something that'll make it easier for me. Um… could we please… would you mind leaving the lights on tonight?"

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Mark's physical health was drastically improving and so, with that in mind, a tentative moving date was scheduled. If all went according to plan, although they would be transporting some items to the dream house ahead of time, Meredith, Derek, and Zola would be officially living in their new residence on June 22nd.

The time worked well because by June 22nd, two months would have fully passed since the plane crash. Everyone involved, other than Arizona and Lexie, would likely be healthy enough to carry boxes and Meredith and Derek would still have more than a week until the fresh batch of surgical interns arrived at Seattle Grace.

No longer a resident, Meredith was not technically responsible for any of the puppies. She did not want to get too far behind in her fellowship program though, or worse, be looked at as a weakling by the new doctors.

In other words, Meredith wanted to be completely settled into her new house as soon as possible. That would give her time to focus on therapy, on potentially saying goodbye to Lexie, on being a surgeon again.

"Wyatt says I can do consults and ER work whenever I feel ready," Meredith said to Derek one day as they pushed Zola in her stroller to a nearby park.

The few days that had passed since Meredith's hospital discharge had been mostly good. She was not clueless enough to consider herself healed, but Meredith had been packing up her belongings and attended another therapy session with Dr. Wyatt where they talked about the Cristina situation. According to society, Meredith was functioning like a normal human being.

Well, for the most part, anyway. Meredith had yet to sleep in a room that did not have its brightest light shining and she had terrified Derek on numerous occasions when she wokeup screaming with nightmares. But there had been improvement.

"Don't push yourself," Derek frowned. "You heard what Owen said… there's no deadline. Just because the new interns are starting work, that doesn't mean you have to."

"I know and I'm not cleared for surgery yet anyway but I could start working in the pit or something," Meredith said. "What about you? Didn't your physical therapist say you could start consulting?"

Derek nodded. "Yeah, I… he did but I'm not sure if I'm ready, to be honest."

"Why?"

"No reason. Just think I might need more time."

Meredith shrugged. "Mark said he was going to start working again. I know he's better but I'm not sure if that's a great idea."

"Why? Because of Lexie?"

"I mean, would you feel comfortable working if I was lying in the ICU with minimal brain activity?"

Even the suggestion sent shadows of pain over Derek's wary face. "I… I wouldn't, no but Mark and I are built differently. And something tells me that if I were lying in the ICU with minimal brain activity, you would work obsessively to drown out your pain."

"Ah, we know each other well but don't worry, I wouldn't ever let you get to this point where you were lying on a ventilator a month after having a stroke. You would have been unplugged right after your huge family had a chance to say goodbye," Meredith smiled wryly.

"Well, er… thank you for that," Derek said. At this point they had arrived at the park, which was bustling with other families, dogs, and sports teams. Summer was here and for a majority of people, they had not a care in the world.

"Enough talk of work and death?"

"Please," Derek requested. They helped Zola out of her stroller together and brought her over to a playground where she happily began climbing on a miniature jungle gym.

Meredith giggled as her fearless daughter reached the top and launched herself down a steep slide. "So this is what it's like when you don't live in the hospital…"

"This is what it's like when you're part of a loving family," Derek said and frowned, sarcastically. "What, don't tell me that your mother never brought you to the playground…"

"I think the only time we ever went to a park was when she was planning to meet Richard there. That was when he broke up with her. I was riding the carousel, watched the whole thing go down."

"And look at you now. You are breaking the cycle."

"I am?" Meredith said. She had not felt like the best parent lately, between her psych ward admission and night terrors.

"You are," Derek assured her. "It's not your fault that you were in a plane crash, Meredith."

"And it's not your fault that you were shot… or that twenty other people were shot."

"Yes, except technically it was," Derek said. "I gave the order to unplug Allison Clark; I…"

"Need more therapy," Meredith interrupted. "You never got proper therapy after the shooting and you're getting that now, with Rehmani. Trust me, it was not your fault but we're not going to talk about this any longer. We're going to sit here on this bench and… and…"

"And watch our daughter enjoy the childhood that her mother deserved to have," Derek finished and Meredith nodded.

"Yeah… yeah, we're going to do that."

They sat on that bench for approximately another hour. Derek got up briefly and allowed Zola to give him a tour of the playground; he even started a conversation with another father that was present but Meredith remained on the bench which felt safer. She got out her phone and contemplated calling Cristina several times but ultimately decided this was not the time nor the place. All Zola needed was to watch her mother have an emotional conversation in the park, the same park where Richard Webber had once broken the heart of Ellis Grey.

When Zola began to get tired, the trio headed back to the house on Harper Lane, chatting quietly about work and daycare as they strolled. Thanks to her parents' calm voices and the gentle rocking of the stroller, Zola passed out for her afternoon nap in the midst of their journey and upon arriving home, Derek carried her upstairs to the nursery.

"How about tonight I make you a special dinner?" Derek suggested as he trudged back down to the kitchen.

"You don't have to do that; I know you're probably tired from the walk," Meredith said. "How about we just order pizza or something? Save the special dinner for the dream house."

Derek shook his head. "We'll have a special dinner then, too, but we have a lot of food we need to eat here before moving. Go on, sit down… call Cristina if you want. I have something in mind and it's not peanut butter and jelly sandwiches."

"Are you mocking my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?" Meredith accused, a smirk pressed slyly on her face.

"Of course not, dear," Derek smiled. "I'm just saying… I don't think I am quite as talented as you when it comes to making those delicious sandwiches. You're going to have to have faith in my actual culinary skills."

Derek was, in general, a much better cook than Meredith so she rolled her eyes and left him to do his thing. With Zola asleep and her husband preoccupied, it was the ideal time for Meredith to call her friend in Minnesota but she was not sure if she wanted to face the inevitable just yet. Today had been a good day… the first genuinely good day that Meredith had had in what seemed like forever. She had spent time with Derek and Zola at the park and for once, Meredith felt like a good mother.

She did not want to ruin that by thinking or talking about her mental breakdown so instead, Meredith flipped on the television, one of the few household items that remained in its usual place. It was not plausible to pack up absolutely everything, not when Meredith and Derek were still recovering physically and mentally from their battle wounds.

Meredith had barely started watching an old episode of _Jeopardy _when there was a tentative thumping sound from the door. It was so soft that Meredith was not entirely sure whether the knock was meant for her house and if it was, it was certainly too quiet for Derek to have heard from the kitchen.

Meredith hesitated. Her anxiety was persuading her to call her husband, to ask him to answer the door; Meredith had been in no mood to speak with strangers. But Derek was busy. He was cooking. Meredith could do this one thing by herself.

Taking a deep breath, Meredith walked away from _Jeopardy_ and to the front door which she swung open, expecting to see some kid selling gift baskets from a catalogue.

Instead, Meredith found herself face to face with the youngest of the Grey sisters, the woman that had accused her of abandoning Lexie.

Molly was rather pale and shaky; she shifted around, awkwardly. "Meredith…"

"I… what are you doing here? How do you know where I live?" Meredith asked before she could help it.

"Dad told me. This used to be his house, you know so… so he knew," Molly explained. "I'm sorry for coming without calling but you weren't answering the phone and it was an emergency."

An intense feeling of dread filled Meredith head to toe. "Oh, God… is it… is it Lexie?"

"No, but it's a long story so… so can I come in?" Molly requested.

It did not appear that Meredith was going to have much of a choice. She nodded, and opened the door a bit wider, inviting her biological sister into the living room which was unfortunately, quite empty.

"Sorry, um… we're getting ready to move so everything is kinda a mess."

"It's okay. You're not going to Boston, are you?"

"No, Derek and I both decided that… wasn't a good idea. We're staying here but we're moving into another house that Derek's been working on the past few years."

Molly raised her eyebrows. "Like he built it himself?"

"He built the deck himself, with some help but mostly he just designed it," Meredith said and then she shook her head. "But wait a second, we're getting way off track. If it's not Lexie, what made this such an emergency that you had to come over?"

Before Molly could answer, there were approaching footsteps. Derek must have heard multiple voices; he joined the party. "Meredith? What's going on?"

Previously, Derek had encouraged his wife to get to know her sister, but ever since Meredith's mental health had spiraled and Derek had learned the truth about what happened in the ICU, he had been less inclined towards his sister-in-law.

"Oh, um… sorry, you remember Molly, right?" Meredith said, gesturing towards the young woman. "She said there was an emergency so… spit it out."

Molly looked back and forth between Meredith and Derek. Perhaps she wanted Derek to go away, to give them space but there was no way in hell that was going to happen so she sighed. "Okay, listen, Meredith… it's Dad. He needs your help."

"He needs _my_ help?" Meredith repeated, in disbelief.

"He needs _our_ help," Molly confessed. "I need your help. Do you remember when you asked if Dad was… if he was drunk? It turns that you were right. He relapsed and he's been drinking again and he's been drunk since the day we had the conversation about Lexie's life support."

Meredith did not say anything. She just stared at Molly, who had not even uttered an apology for the way she had spoken that day.

Molly was waiting for an answer, though; her face was becoming flustered. "Meredith… he's really, really sick. He's already on his second liver and he's drinking like he was after my mom died. I'm scared he's going to die, too, and… and if he dies… God, I… I'll have no one. You don't have to like me. You don't have to bond with me or anything but Dad's going to die, Meredith and we have to do something before it's too late."

"No, she does not," Derek suddenly said. He stepped forward, in front of Meredith, as if he was protecting her. "Listen, Molly… I understand your concern. I do… but Meredith does not owe your father anything."

"Well, I… no, I don't think it's about owing him but… he's your dad, Meredith. You don't want him to die, right? I mean, you donated your liver to him before…"

"I did that for Lexie," Meredith interjected. "I told you that before… I really couldn't care less about him, Molly, but I love Lexie and she would have been crushed if she lost her dad less than two years after losing her mom. She would have been dark and twisty and broken like I am. I did that for Lexie because I love her."

A soft hand touched Meredith on the shoulder. "Mer, you aren't broken. Stop it."

"I'm just saying…"

"Why?" Molly interrupted this time. "Why don't you care? I know you two aren't as close as we are; you didn't grow up with him but he's your family, Meredith. You're a doctor. How can you not care if he lives or dies?"

Derek opened his mouth again, like he was going to answer for his wife, but Derek never got that chance because Meredith was done with all of it. She was finished letting other people in this family speak for her. She pulled herself out of Derek's arms.

"I don't love people just because they're biological family. I have biological family that I love, like Lexie, and I have biological family that never gave a crap about me. I know that our father was an amazing dad to you, Molly, but he wasn't to me. He left when I was five years old and I never saw him again, not until I was thirty years old and that was only because I sought him out myself.

"When your mother died, he blamed me. And that was fine, to a degree… I've lost family and friends. I know, in that situation, you want to blame somebody. But Susan was my stepmother. My God, I never could have been her doctor. I was an intern; all I was doing was shadowing my resident and spending time with Susan because in the short time I knew your mother, I really grew to love her and I can't say that about many people. When she died, I was heartbroken. But I had to be the one to tell our dad that she was gone. He wasn't drunk then, but he slapped me and cursed at me and then he left. He got drunk. He refused to let us donate Susan's organs and he lied to you and Lexie and told you that it was my fault she was dead. He wouldn't even let me come to the funeral to say goodbye.

"Once he got sober, he wanted my forgiveness. I was forced by my Chief of Surgery, to give him that even though I wasn't ready and let me tell you, no one should have to forgive on anyone's terms except for their own. But I gave him that. I wished him well, and when he came into the ER with liver failure, I donated my liver to save him. After all he had done to me, I did that… I put myself through major, life-threatening abdominal surgery… not for him, but for Lexie. I couldn't let her become an orphan.

"I'm sorry that you feel I don't care about you or about Dad or about Lexie, Molly. And the truth is, I don't really care, not when it comes to you or Dad. I didn't care about Lexie at first either because I'm not like you. I didn't grow up with smiley face posters on my wall. I don't think biological blood automatically warrants love. Maybe if you gave me a chance, though… if you didn't accuse me of not caring about Lexie, if you let me take my time as I process my trauma… maybe we could end up loving each other. Because I do love Lexie. I will always love Lexie. And like it or not, I saved her life out there in the forest. She might still die. But if I hadn't done what I had, she would have 100 percent died out there in the woods."

By this point, tears were streaming down Meredith's face. Her chest was heaving with sobs and anxiety, and all of the emotion that Meredith had been working to keep inside was pouring out. Molly was crying, too; her eyes were welling up but Meredith was finished paying attention to Molly.

Two strong, gentle arms embraced Meredith from behind. Derek was holding her, calming her erratic respirations and steadying her slender frame. Meredith tried to speak, to say something to her husband, yet she had used up all the words in her vocabulary.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of silence broken only by Meredith's sobs, Molly cleared her throat. "Okay, I… I don't know what to say, Meredith. I'm… I'm sorry."

"I d-don't want to kill her… I want her to live, more than anything," Meredith whispered. "But I've done this before. Like you said, I'm a doctor; I do this every day. People in Lexie's situation… they don't wake-up. If I thought there was any chance, I would vote to keep her on the ventilator but the fact is… every day that passes… there's less chance that Lexie will ever wake-up. I want to do the… the humane thing… for Lexie and for us, as a family. I don't think she would want this… I know that none of us deserve this, to… to see her die in slow motion."

Molly nodded, slowly. "I… I know. I didn't want to believe it before but I know you're right. I just… I love her so much and I let Dad influence me and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry, Meredith."

"You should go, Molly," Derek said. "Thank you for coming and keeping us updated but now you should go."

"But what can I do for my dad? I understand why Meredith can't help anymore but I still want to and… and I don't know what to do. I can't let him die. Please… please tell me what to do," Molly begged.

Meredith sat down on the couch; she was exhausted, physically and emotionally but thankfully, Derek was ready. He searched through Meredith's purse, briefly, and stood up with a black pen and a neon blue post-it note. Ever since their wedding, Meredith refused to buy any other color.

Derek scratched down a few words on the post-it and then handed it to Molly. "Go back up to the hospital… talk to Dr. Richard Webber; he's the Chief of General Surgery and then go with him to Dr. David Rehmani in Psychiatry. Tell them I sent you. They both have connections; they'll set up some kind of intervention for your dad. They'll offer him treatment but remember, Molly… it's the alcoholic's choice whether or not they are ready to get help. If Thatcher wants to continue destroying his body, he'll find a way. All you can do is present him the option."

"That's enough. That's more than enough," Molly said and it looked like she was about to reach forward and hug Derek when she stopped short and retreated. "Thank you, Dr. Shepherd. Thank you, Meredith and… and again, I'm sorry for everything."

_**I hope you enjoyed! This was actually a very difficult chapter to write so I would really appreciate any reviews. Also I hope you enjoyed Meredith's little comment about how she would always contact Derek's huge family if he was in a coma in the ICU ;)**_

_**Chapter 32 will be out soon! Make sure you favorite/follow to stay updated. Thank you so much for reading and supporting me; it means a lot. Xoxo, merderpedia :)**_


	32. These Words

_**Author's Note- I am so sorry that it has taken so long to get this chapter out. I wish I had better excuses, but honestly, I have just been suffering from EXTREME writer's block. It's frustrating because I have a complete outline for this story and I knew exactly what I wanted to happen, both in this chapter and in the following chapters, but sometimes getting the words out there is so difficult (no pun intended, regarding the chapter title.) Plus, I have been very busy with school so most of what I have been writing has been papers etc.**_

_**Anyway, I've rambled on long enough so here is Chapter Thirty-Two! I hope you enjoy it! :)**_

To Molly's everlasting credit, she did not mention a word about the fight with Meredith to anyone, not even Richard Webber. She kept her mouth shut, did exactly as Derek had told her, and, two days after the family argument, Meredith received a text from an unknown number.

It read: _Hey Meredith. It's Molly. Sorry to bother you but I just wanted to let you know that Dr. Webber, Dr. Rehmani, and I held an intervention for Dad this morning in the ICU. It was super awkward because Lexie was right there in front of us but he accepted the treatment and they committed him to psych this morning. He's going to detox there and start therapy. I just thought you might want to know._

And it was funny but despite all the emotional torture that Thatcher had inflicted upon her, Meredith was grateful to know. She responded: _Thank you, Molly. Take care of yourself._

With Thatcher confined to the psychiatric floor, it was the ideal time for Meredith to visit Lexie without having to worry about encountering her father so on Monday, June 17th, that was what Meredith did. She had still not written a goodbye letter to Lexie. For now, she was simply going to sit with her sister while she still could.

Meredith had accepted that she might run into Molly inside Lexie's quarters, too, but instead, she found Mark sitting in one of the available chairs, his eyes red and swollen. She stopped short in the doorway and hesitated. "Er… hey."

"Oh… hey, Big Grey," Mark said, rubbing his eyes, discreetly. "I heard about your dad. I'm sorry."

"Don't be… I know I said I was going to be nice to him now. I know I promised Lexie and everything but… it's not like Lexie knew these recent events were going to go down."

"Yeah, Lexie wouldn't be okay with the way your dad's been treating you. I might be a dumbass on about fifty different levels but I know that."

Meredith smiled, sadly. "What happened to the egotistical Mark Sloan who thought he was the greatest surgeon to ever walk the planet earth?"

"I don't know," Mark sighed. "I guess he was a coward who didn't tell the girl he loved that he loved her when he had the chance."

There was a long, drawn out pause. They had had this same conversation several times now, since the plane crash. Meredith did feel bad for Mark; it seemed that all he had been doing these last few weeks was sitting in the ICU and crying about Lexie but at the same time, Meredith understood. She, too, was filled with a lifetime of regret.

"My therapist wants me to write a letter to her," Meredith finally said. "You know… say goodbye since it doesn't look like this is gonna end anytime soon. You could… maybe do that too… if you want. We could read them together. Well, not at the exact same time but… you know…"

"You sound just like her when you stutter around like that," Mark chuckled.

Meredith grinned again, bigger this time. Stuttering, talking too fast, stress-eating… those were all the little things that made Lexie, Lexie. It was comforting, somehow, for Meredith to know that she shared some traits with her extraordinary sister.

"Hey… by the way, um… I don't know if Hunt's talked to you but now that you're feeling better and Arizona's home, we're going to have a second attempt at the meeting with Bayview… probably in a few days once your dad's detoxed," Mark said.

"Oh… yeah, okay," Meredith agreed. "I didn't know that Arizona got discharged. That's good to hear."

"I guess," Mark said, and shrugged.

"What?"

"I don't know. It's just… it's been a whole lot for Callie. She's taking care of me, still; I'm not totally independent and then taking care of Sofia and now Arizona who won't get out of bed. None of us are working yet so Callie still needs to spend some time in the OR… it's been rough. I wish I could do more."

_So that's why Mark wants to go back to work early,_ Meredith thought to herself. She nodded. "Yeah, and Callie used to vent to Cristina when she needed to and now Cristina's gone…"

"We'll talk with her at the meeting. Hunt will be there to represent her but I think Cristina's going to Skype in, too," Mark said.

That would be an interesting conference. As the week rolled by and the date of the meeting grew closer, Meredith found herself growing increasingly nervous about the whole thing. What was she supposed to say to her father when she saw him? _Hey, Dad… thanks for the black eye?_

Then there was the matter of Cristina, who, unless everyone had become expert secret-keepers, had been notified about Meredith's stint in the psych ward. Meredith's episode was sure to be discussed… according to Owen, the primary purpose of this meeting would be recognizing any and all physical and mental damage from the plane crash so Bayview Aeronautics and Seattle Grace Hospital could compromise upon a fair settlement.

On the morning of June 20th, Meredith woke-up feeling sick to her stomach with nerves. Her anxiety levels were so high that she thought about searching for a new clonazepam prescription and this was all before her alarm clock went off. To kill some time, and calm herself, Meredith spent approximately ten minutes writing down words in the journal she had taken from the psych ward.

She had five terms related to the shooting- _bubbles, salt, explosion, helpless, and sanctuary_\- but describing the plane crash in detail was too painful.

Meredith also flipped to a fresh page in her journal and wrote _Dear Lexie_ across the top, but it was impossible to get any farther than that.

When the alarm clock did go off and Derek woke-up, Meredith cast her journal aside. "You ready for this?"

"I have to admit I feel more optimistic than our last attempt," Derek said.

"Why?"

"Well, for starters, you're here next to me, in bed. You're not off in some bar, drinking yourself into oblivion."

"That still doesn't sound like a bad idea," Meredith admitted although based on the absence of laughter, it did not sound like Derek appreciated the joke. "What are you going to tell them about your hand today? Are you going to tell them that it's feeling a lot better?"

"I don't know. Should I? Or should I say that my nerves are shot and that I'll never operate again?"

"We shouldn't lie," Meredith guessed.

"It's not a lie; there is no guarantee that I'll operate again and any kind of damage raises the settlement," Derek said. "What about you? Are you going to tell them you had an… episode?"

"If I don't, I'm sure someone else will."

Procrastination could only take the couple so far; the conference was due to start at 10:00 AM. At 8:10, Meredith and Derek got out of bed. They each dressed in somewhat respectable clothing; Meredith wore a pair of dark wash jeans and a black top paired with some stylish, black pumps. She felt a bit silly driving to the hospital in this attire, but she figured it was better than showing up drunk and vomiting on the floor.

"Depending on how this goes, I might be spending some time with Callie when we're finished," Meredith told her husband as they walked towards the elevators. "You might want to reach out to Mark. I was talking with him in the ICU a few days ago… he seems really depressed."

"Well, that's not surprising. The love of his life is in there with minimal brain activity."

"I know, but I think all he's been doing all day, every day is sitting in that room with Lexie and crying. He… probably wouldn't want me to tell you that but it's true and he's a wreck trying to be there for Callie."

"He can come over later and help us package up the last few things for the big move," Derek decided. "Maybe you could invite Callie, too, and we could treat her to some lunch and a drink."

That sounded nice. Any potential meal would feel incomplete without Lexie and Arizona but if Meredith wanted to return to work and be a surgeon, she would need to make small steps such as this one. Dining with a friend or two was manageable.

Upstairs, in the same conference room they had occupied three weeks ago, Meredith and Derek took their place at the table. Callie and Mark were already present so the discussion regarding them was halted and Meredith smiled at Callie. "Hey."

"Hey, Mer. Haven't seen you in… a while," Callie said and reached over so the two women could exchange an awkward, half-hug. "You look better."

"Better than last time when I was passing out in my own vomit?" Meredith smirked and Callie faltered. "It's okay, I know. I don't really remember what you looked like then but I hear you're doing better with Arizona home now."

Callie shrugged. "I guess so. I mean, yeah, it's good to have her home."

"How is she feeling today?"

"About the same, I guess. I was honestly really nervous about even leaving her to come to this meeting."

"Well, I'm sure she understands," Meredith said. "Does that mean you wouldn't be interested in coming over to my place for lunch afterwards? Mark, you could come, too. Derek and I were thinking of um… I don't know, having a drink or two and finishing up packing."

"You're trying to bribe us into helping you move, aren't you?" Mark guessed.

"Maybe…"

"Yeah, so in other words, you'd love to come. It's settled," Derek said. "Can we count you in, too, Callie?"

"I don't know. Arizona screamed at the last nurse I sent to our apartment…"

"Well, we'll send someone better this time. We'll send Alex, you know… the girl. Nurse Alex," Derek offered.

"Everyone trusts Alex," Meredith insisted.

"Yeah, I would have stolen her off the pediatric rotation a long time ago if Arizona wasn't so attached," Derek added.

It appeared that Callie was on the brink of agreement when the door to the conference room swung open and Owen Hunt entered, closely followed by Thatcher, Molly, and two unfamiliar officials. If Meredith's assumption was correct, these two individuals were the representatives of Seattle Grace and Bayview Aeronautics, respectively.

Upon joining the table, Owen set down a laptop and sighed with relief. "Thank goodness… everyone's here."

Meredith was not listening to his borderline accusatory words. She was focusing, in the most tactful way possible, at her own father. Thatcher was rather pale; there was a permanent look of exhaustion in his eyes. Apparently his body was still recovering from the abrupt stoppage of alcohol usage.

"I'm going to be representing my wife, Cristina Yang today but if no one minds, I'm also going to set her up on Skype here so she can listen to everything first-hand," Owen continued, clicking around on the laptop. "And for those of you who were absent previously, this is our wonderful physician representative, Natasha Williams."

A tall, African American woman who appeared to be in her mid-thirties smiled at each of the plane crash victims. "Glad to see everyone is feeling better."

"And who's this other dude?" Mark asked, signaling to the thin man in a navy suit.

"Oh, yes… that is Mr. Richard Sykes; he is representing Bayview Aeronautics."

"So you're the one responsible for my daughter's death, then?" Thatcher said, glaring at Richard Sykes.

"Dad!" Molly gasped, yanking at her father's arm. "Stop it. Lexie's not dead yet."

"And we don't know who is responsible for the crash at this time. That's why we're here," Owen added just as Cristina's face popped up on the nearby computer screen.

It was the first time that Meredith had seen her best friend since their verbal altercation three weeks ago. Cristina seemed to be adjusting to life in Minnesota well. Dressed in a simple black tank top, Cristina sat on an unmade bed, a transitory sling around her left shoulder.

Meredith resisted an eye roll. When Cristina had departed for Minnesota, her injury was supposedly healed. Cristina must have obtained a new brace just for the sake of this meeting.

"And there is Dr. Cristina Yang right now," Owen announced. "Hey there. Welcome back to Seattle."

"Yeah, thanks. Hi, everyone," Cristina said.

Mark, Callie, and Derek all greeted Cristina, pleasantly, yet Meredith remained silent.

"Okay, well, everybody, let's get started," Natasha Williams, the physician representative began. "We all know why we're here. Six talented doctors, some of which currently sit in this room, were the victims of an unexpected tragedy. Our goal now is to make sure all of you, or your families, receive the justice you deserve."

There was a bunch of legal jabber. All of the plane crash victims, or the individual representing them, were required to sign a document promising that information shared in the following meetings would be kept confidential. Owen explained everything about the intended trip, including the conjoined twins and each surgeon's purpose on the flight. Richard Sykes interjected a few times with questions and Meredith was glad when he brought up the subject of Jerry Haynes. The pilot, it seemed, had been mostly forgotten thus far in the investigation and one of the images that would forever haunt Meredith was Jerry, dead in the cockpit next to Lexie.

Finally, when Meredith was about to drift into a stupor of boredom, Natasha cleared her throat. "Okay, well, now that all that's taken care of, let's begin with explaining in detail everything we can remember from the day the plane went down. Were there any early signs of trouble?"

Meredith's stomach was cramping. It was too soon. In therapy, Wyatt had repeatedly assured Meredith that she could take as long as she needed to talk directly about her trauma. And now the act was being forced upon her.

For a few seconds, no one spoke. Then Callie laughed, humorlessly. "Well, I can't really answer this one. I wasn't there."

"I don't think there was anything until like… maybe a minute before we went down but everything's kind of foggy, to be honest," Mark said. "I was sitting there, studying for the surgery and then… I thought we hit a patch of turbulence."

"Yeah, and then Jerry said something from the cockpit… something cliche about how we should stay calm," Meredith remembered. She had proceeded to look backwards and yell towards her sister, _It's okay, Lex! Just turbulence!_

Lexie had been working on her application for Chief Resident…

"Then what happened?" Natasha pressed. "Did the turbulence get worse?"

"Yeah, the turbulence got worse; we crashed," Cristina said from the computer screen. "The whole plane started like, rocking around, and Meredith fell out of her seat because we were going down. I was sitting in front and I looked backwards and I knew the back of the plane had fallen off cause all I could see was… was sky."

Natasha nodded, all the while making notes in a composition book. "Did everyone lose consciousness during the initial moment of impact?"

"I think so," Mark said. "I know I blacked out. When I woke up, I was on fire and Dr. Yang helped me put it out."

"Okay, and everyone else woke-up, too?"

"Well, eventually. It was Arizona, Meredith, Cristina, and me at the actual crash site. Lexie, um… we found her maybe half a mile out because of the way the plane had fallen apart. She was conscious when we found her, but trapped underneath some of the wreckage. Meredith, Cristina, and I helped get her out."

"And where were you during all this, Derek?" Natasha asked.

Derek's face paled, slightly. "I… I honestly don't know how much help I'm going to be. I don't remember hardly anything from the woods. Somehow, I ended up further away than everyone else; I don't know how… Meredith found me in the middle of the night, I think, and helped me get back to everyone else."

"You were sucked out the side of the plane, Derek. I saw it happen. That's why you were lost out there," Cristina said and Derek flinched. Meredith brushed her fingers along his arm.

If there were not so many strangers present, she would have spoken the words aloud: _It's okay. You're safe now. We're here, together. I found you._

"And you were out in the woods for four days without any signs of help…"

Mark nodded, in response to Natasha. "Yeah… we saw one helicopter. It was that first day, the day we had crashed. I figured it was Search and Rescue but if it was, they flew right past us and we didn't see another one until Owen came on day four."

"It… it wasn't Search and Rescue," Owen sighed, as if he was ashamed. "I'm sorry, everyone. To be honest… I… I didn't even notice you were missing until early the next morning. We were getting swamped with traumas and trust me, I take full responsibility for not having a team out there sooner."

Meredith was unsure what to say. It was not Owen's shortcoming. He had not intentionally left the surgeons in the forest to die. At the same time, though, there was no excuse. How could Owen have not spoken to anyone at Boise Memorial for over 24 hours? There were always traumas coming into the Seattle Grace Emergency Room. If the doctors had been saved earlier, perhaps Lexie would have stood a chance at survival.

"Dammit," Thatcher muttered. Maybe he was going to say more but Molly nudged him before he could do so.

"Okay, well… let's move on," Natasha encouraged. "Right now, we don't need to talk about the plane crash itself as much as we need to discuss your lasting effects. Dr. Sloan, let's start with you. Can you talk about any injuries you suffered in the accident, physical or mental?"

Mark sat up straighter, his face traumatized from the horrific memories. "Well, I mean… I screwed up my ankle. It was fractured, apparently. And I had second and third degree burns over my right abdomen and hip so I had to get some skin grafts. There were some other bumps and bruises, um… a concussion… and then Lexie, she had…"

"Let's just stick to yourself right now, Dr. Sloan," Natasha said. "If there's nothing else you have to add, let's move onto Dr. Arizona Robbins."

"I'm representing Arizona Robbins; she's my wife and she's too hurt to be here today," Callie said. "Arizona sustained an open fracture of her left femur in the plane crash. According to Dr. Yang, everyone tried to keep it clean in the woods but there was only so much they could do. Once we were back in Seattle, the infection became too much. She went septic and… and unfortunately, we had to amputate her leg from the hip down.

"It's been hard; I'm not going to lie. Arizona's a workaholic. She loves her job and the fact that she hasn't been able to work these past couple months has been terrible. She's depressed. She doesn't want to get out of bed. She's angry and I don't blame her for being angry. Her world's been destroyed."

Compared with Callie's confession, Cristina's statement was relatively short. "I dislocated my shoulder and fractured my collarbone in the crash but um… both are healing pretty well."

"And what about your mental health, Dr. Yang? Have you experienced any lasting effects from the crash?" Natasha asked.

Cristina had shattered a window in the ICU and was one step away from being admitted to the psych ward, yet she shifted, her body language aloof. "Not really. I mean… I have some bad dreams sometimes, but that's it."

"Nightmares are a prime symptom of PTSD which I'm sure several of you are experiencing," Natasha agreed. "Dr. Meredith Grey, I know you in particular, had a bit of a breakdown, am I right?"

Meredith froze. She stared at the table, oblivious to Derek's comforting hand on her shoulder, and tried with all her might not to look at the computer where Cristina's facial expression had turned from neutral to alarmed.

"Dr. Grey?" Natasha prompted when her client did not respond.

"Yeah, I had a breakdown," Meredith spat before she could help it. "See, my little sister, Lexie was also in the plane crash. She had a stroke, once we were back here in Seattle, and my dad, who's her healthcare proxy, wants to keep her connected to that damn ventilator until the end of time, even though there's basically no chance she's ever going to wake-up. I got in an argument with him about it all, ended up getting drunk, and as I'm sure you can remember, showed up to our last meeting drunk.

"He's a recovering alcoholic and apparently he was drunk, too, but that doesn't excuse the fact that my dad punched me in the face and gave me a concussion… another concussion; I also had one from the plane crash and if you weren't aware, one concussion is enough to induce permanent neurological damage. I ended up in the psych ward for four days. Well, actually, we both ended up in the psych ward, but if you ask me, a better place for my dad would have been jail."

The conference room was completely silent. Not even Thatcher dared to speak, and both of the representatives were stunned.

Cristina was the first to bite. "Mer… I… why didn't I know about this?"

"There was no reason you had to know about it," Meredith said, flatly.

"So you're telling me that you wouldn't want to know if I was admitted to the hospital?"

Meredith scoffed just as Thatcher found his voice. "M-Meredith… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't remember anything from the last meeting but that's no excuse. I never should have hit you. Please, I… I'm begging for your forgiveness."

"Forgiveness?!"

"Yes, I want to start over. I want to pretend like… like you were just saved from that plane crash. Remember those first few days after you were rescued, Mer? Those days were so wonderful for both of us."

Her mouth was hanging open. Meredith could not comprehend what she was hearing. Evidently, Derek could not believe his ears either, because he was, for once, speechless.

"Those days were not wonderful, not for me," Meredith said. "I was in the ICU, injured and traumatized, unsure whether my sister or my husband was going to survive. And I'm sorry, Dad, but you already had your chance to start over when I gave you my liver. That was your second chance at life."

"And I don't want to hear another damn word about forgiveness," Derek told Thatcher. "Do you honestly think you can do whatever you want to your daughter and if you apologize, that she'll just forgive you?!"

"No, I… I didn't say…"

Molly stood up, interrupting things. "Dad, I think we should go."

"Hold on," Natasha pleaded. "You're representing Alexandra Grey, right? I need to hear about the physical and mental damages she has suffered from the plane crash."

"Well, I think it's fairly obvious that our family is a wreck," Molly said. "And she has a ton of other diagnoses, too, but I'm pretty sure Meredith can tell you those better than either of us."

And then Molly forcibly pulled her father out of the conference room, slamming the door behind her.

**MTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTBMTB**

Unnerved by the recurring drama, Natasha Williams wrapped up the meeting quickly after that. She listened as Derek talked about his injured hand and thoracic surgery, and Meredith provided the representatives with a full list of Lexie's ailments including _brain death._ It was close enough to the truth.

Meredith and Derek left Seattle Grace together, without adequately planning lunch with either Callie or Mark. They could do that later, Meredith had decided. Right now, the most important goal was getting Derek home without an assault charge.

Absolutely furious at Thatcher Grey, Derek continued fuming a majority of the drive home. "I swear to God, that man makes Mark's parents look like angels!"

And then, "I figured he would apologize but to flat out ask your forgiveness?! To say he wants to start over?!"

"Stop it!" Meredith screamed as soon as she pulled into the driveway. "Derek, I know. I get it. I've been living with it forever and honestly, right now, all I want to do is forget about it."

"I'm sorry," Derek sighed, running his healthy digits through his hair in frustration. "I'm sorry, I just… every time I think things are getting better, that we're gonna be able to help Mark and Callie, that bastard goes and acts like the victim. God, you could tell that even Molly's done with him."

"Yeah, I think Molly's had a rude awakening when it comes to her father," Meredith said.

"Welcome to the Grey family," Derek joked and Meredith smiled.

Their afternoon was free thanks to the postponed luncheon so Meredith and Derek worked around the house a bit more and in the evening, trekked up to Ikea. A majority of the dream house was already furnished but Zola had been promised the opportunity to pick out her own bed, a special _big-girl _bed.

"Are you sure she's ready for this?" Meredith wondered, nervously, as Zola pointed out a toddler frame with lots of pink frills.

"She wouldn't be sleeping in it as soon as we move," Derek said, shrugging. "It's just there, waiting for her, whenever she's ready. Let her have fun, Mer."

Meredith was skeptical. Zola liked to climb and had managed to escape her crib once before. Derek looked at his wife, rationally. "Mer, do you think I would let anything happen to my little girl?"

"I… no," Meredith realized, and gave in. "No, you wouldn't."

While they were at Ikea, the couple decided to browse adult-sized beds, too, and ended up purchasing one, on a whim. They had previously planned on shipping Meredith's queen-sized mattress to the dream house, but the thing was already several years old. A fresh bunk would be inviting, for several reasons; they selected an expensive, sleep number bed that could supposedly help control snoring. Meredith always felt guilty about Derek's excessive use of wax earplugs.

That night, after Zola had passed out in her current crib, Meredith and Derek lay in the master bedroom. It was their second to last sleep in Meredith's childhood house. She thought that she would feel sad about this, but she was not emotional in the slightest. All Meredith could feel was excitement about moving into the dream house.

Grief was strange, though. Every time Meredith found herself becoming happy or excited about something, she was reminded that Lexie was in the ICU, virtually braindead. Meredith would flashback to those four days in the woods and when that happened, she was unsure whether or not she would ever be truly joyful again.

If so, would that be right? Fair? Would Meredith feel guilty about surviving the plane crash for the rest of her life?

"Of course, you'll be happy again, Mer," Derek said when Meredith tentatively proposed this subject. "We're proof of that. I know I didn't think I'd be happy again after the shooting… after my dad died. You didn't think you'd be happy after George died."

"I know," Meredith said. "It's just… George knew, I think, how much I loved him… or at least I hope he did."

"Lexie knew, too," Derek said. "She was living with us, Mer. You donated part of your liver to your father for her. Lexie knew you loved her."

Perhaps that was true… perhaps Lexie knew that Meredith cared about her. She did not realize the extent of her sister's love, though. If she did, Lexie never would have said the things that she had, out in the woods.

"She didn't know that Mark still loved her," Meredith said.

"I know," Derek said. "Have you talked with Mark about the letter you're writing to Lexie? Maybe he should think about doing the same thing."

Meredith nodded. "Yeah, I told him. But I don't know… it doesn't really seem like his thing."

"It doesn't seem like your thing either, but you're doing it," Derek said. "Actually, I think I might do it, too. She is my sister-in-law. I'd like to tell her goodbye, properly."

"I'm sure Lexie would love that," Meredith said and giggled, unexpectedly. "Remember when you first met her? When she flirted with you at Joe's?"

Derek chuckled, tightly. "Yeah… now imagine if I would have taken her up on the offer."

"You wouldn't have done that. You wouldn't have cheated on me when we were still technically together."

"If we hadn't been together, though… God, I… I don't want to think about it," Derek said.

There was a long, awkward pause. Until now, Meredith had practically forgotten that Lexie still had a room here, filled with her own belongings. Derek and Alex had apparently boxed them up while Meredith was in the hospital. The reality that Meredith would not have to directly deal with Lexie's things was a relief, but what would happen to them next? Would Lexie's clothes and computer be moving into the dream house with Meredith and Derek?

A soft, buzzing sound interrupted Meredith's spiraling thoughts. She grabbed her phone from the bedside table; there was a new message from Molly: _Hey. I just wanted to apologize on Dad's behalf, even though I know it's not my responsibility. I'm sorry about what happened today. It was wrong on so many levels._

Meredith replied: _It's okay. It wasn't your fault._

"Who is that, Cristina?" Derek guessed.

"No, it's… my sister, apparently… Molly," Meredith said. Specifying Molly as her sister was a pun. Their relationship had improved, but not to these drastic measures.

Derek's face darkened. "What does she want?"

"I don't know, just to apologize to me on my dad's behalf. She says she knows it's not her fault and that she knows it was wrong, but… I don't know. I just want to be done with all of them."

"And there's nothing wrong with that," Derek said. "Look… I grew up with four loving sisters and my dad is dead. That's why I always wanted you to have a relationship with your family. But if someone is going to treat you the way that Thatcher and Molly are, you don't owe them or me anything. You know that, right?"

"I know," Meredith agreed. "And trust me, whatever deals I made Lexie, out in the woods… they're over. But with everything going on with Lexie, it just makes me wonder, like… I'm regretting so much. Would I regret this later, not being nicer and trying with Molly?"

"What deals did you make with Lexie out in the woods?" Derek asked.

It was a minor jolt to the heart. Meredith had never talked about those conversations with anyone… not Derek, not Dr. Wyatt. Mark knew the jist of it because he had been there, but it was nothing that Meredith notably wanted to share.

_Communication,_ she reminded herself. _This is the whole reason you ended up in the psych ward… lack of communication with Derek._

"I told Lexie that I would call Thatcher _Dad_ from now on," Meredith confessed. "She didn't ask me to or anything but she was really… hopeless. I was trying to say whatever I could, promise her whatever I could to keep her spirits up. I told her that I would try to have a relationship with Thatcher but I don't know if I can do that anymore."

"No, and Lexie wouldn't want that," Derek said. "Trust me, Lexie would not want you to do any of that if she knew how Thatcher was treating you. I'm not even sure she would want you to try with Molly. She hasn't exactly been fair to you."

Meredith sighed. It was identical to what Mark had told her. No one knew what Lexie would or would not want, though, because she was gone. That was the problem when it came to her life support. Lexie had not made any sort of advanced directive, so no one was aware what she wanted.

Lexie was a doctor, for crying out loud. Lexie was a brilliant physician with a photographic memory and an IQ of almost 200. How could she be so stupid and never tell anyone what she wanted, in case of an emergency? She had had near-death experiences in the past, or one near-death experience… the shooting.

"I don't know. Molly's trying. I know she's going through a lot, with Thatcher and Lexie and her kids…"

Just then, though, Meredith's statement was interrupted by a second buzz from her phone. She had assumed that the limited dialogue with Molly was over, yet her sister had texted again: _He is acting a little more rationally now that he's sober. We talked some more earlier and I just wanted to let you know that I think I'm going to get Lexie transferred to some kind of long-term facility. It's the best I could think of, in terms of compromise. I know Dad isn't going to let us unplug her but it's not fair to you either, to have Lexie laying there in the hospital where you work. How does that sound to you? We could find her a really nice place._

Meredith was still and silent for so long that Derek grew concerned. "Mer? What is it?"

"I… It's Molly, again. She wants to transfer Lexie to a rehab facility."

"What?! Is this your dad's idea?!"

"No, it sounds like it was Molly's but my dad agreed. And honestly, I… I don't know if it's a bad idea."

"Do you have any idea what happens in places like that, Mer? Especially with the long-term comatose patients? There are horror stories from all over the country. The staff is careless; they treat the patients like they're already dead…"

"But Lexie is already dead," Meredith said. "That's what I've been telling everyone, this whole time. Neurologically, she's dead and not all places are like that. You know better than to say something like that. Roseridge was really good to my mother and Adele is there now…"

"Roseridge is different. They're a senior care center; they deal with dementia and Alzheimer's…"

"They have a coma unit, too. And I'm sorry, Derek but… this isn't your decision to make. My dad's never going to let us unplug Lexie. None of us are going to be able to do anything because he's her proxy. How long are we going to let her lay there in the ICU?"

Derek hesitated, briefly. "I… I don't know. And I'm not trying to make this decision for you, Meredith. All I'm doing is… is giving my input as your husband and as Lexie's brother."

"Okay, well… your input has been taken into consideration," Meredith said.

"And? The verdict is already out?"

"This is the right thing to do. Maybe not right away… we'll give her a little more time, just so Mark and I can write our goodbye letters and read them to her and everything. And once that's done, we'll send her to Roseridge or somewhere similar. We'll pay for it with the money we get from this lawsuit."

"We don't need to do that. If we had it our way, Lexie would have been unplugged a long time ago. It's Thatcher's fault that Lexie is being put in this position at all. He'll pay for it. He's going to get money from the lawsuit, too… maybe even more, considering his direct loss," Derek said.

It was all bullshit, in Meredith's opinion. She crossed her arms and settled back against the pillows, so beyond sick of this topic. Regardless of her daily activities, it was all Meredith had been thinking of for weeks. Lexie was always in the back of her mind. She wanted to forget about it all, yet at the same time, Meredith never wanted to forget Lexie.

Why did the damn plane have to fall from the sky and ruin everything?! Everything had been perfect and that was not a word that frequented Meredith Grey's vocabulary. She had passed her boards. The dream house was finished and ready for sale. Meredith was about to start a new life in Boston with Derek and Zola, and Lexie would be named Chief Resident. She would have a fantastic last year of residency at Seattle Grace before following her family to Harvard.

"Let's just… drop it for tonight," Derek said, although it was technically Meredith's turn to speak. "You don't have to answer Molly right now. This is probably a discussion you should have in person, anyway."

"I know what I want to do," Meredith said, but her husband was right. Getting this worked up before bed was not the ideal way to combat the nightmares that would surely come. She set aside her phone. Molly could wait until the morning for a response.

Instead, Meredith picked up the journal that had come home with her from Seattle Grace's psych ward. She flipped to the page with _Dear Lexie_ written across the top, and tried desperately to make the words come but there were not terms in the English language to express what Meredith desired to say.

"Maybe that should wait until tomorrow, too," Derek suggested, reading over her shoulder.

"Yeah, and I've been telling myself that for weeks."

"What's the rush?"

"I don't know. I just feel like… until I do this, until I tell Lexie everything… the sooner I do that, the sooner she can rest in peace."

The choice was ultimately Meredith's, but when Derek reached over and gently took the journal out of his wife's hands, Meredith did not fight him.

"Tonight's not the night, Mer," Derek said, softly. "You're already heated from the day. You want your words to Lexie to come from the heart."

Again, Derek was correct. When Meredith was angry, she always lashed out and said things she did not mean.

"Now, if you want to call Cristina… that, I would not fight you about," Derek continued, smiling wryly.

"Yeah, too bad she isn't here so we can kick you out of this bed one last time."

"Cristina was hurt today, when she learned what she did," Derek said. "And I'm not saying that to hurt you. I'm not saying that I side with her over you or that you did the wrong thing. I'm just saying… think if the opposite had happened. Think of how you would feel if Cristina had been committed to the psych ward and she hadn't told you."

"For all I know, that exact same thing has already happened," Meredith said. "She hasn't called me once from Minnesota. How the hell am I supposed to know what's going on there?"

Derek shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just saying… the phone line goes both ways. You could've called her, too."

"Yeah, but I already told you why I couldn't do that. You're just being a McAss, butting your head into our friendship. I'm mad at you. I just want to go to sleep," Meredith said.

"Okay. Well, just remember that I still love you, no matter what."

Meredith did not reply. The lights were remaining on. She turned over, away from Derek, and curled onto her side in the blankets. There was melatonin running through her system; it was only a matter of time before the darkness engulfed her.

And then the flashback hit, but it was not a memory from the plane crash. It was towards the end of Meredith's second year of residency, and it was something that Meredith herself had said to Cristina Yang, hours before George O'Malley was declared dead: _I think it's important to take the time to tell the people you love how much you love them while they can still hear you._

She had preached that mantra but Meredith had certainly not followed her advice, not when it came to Lexie. Maybe not even to George and Izzie. Meredith and Derek had survived more than their fair share of disasters.

So despite her rage, Meredith rolled over in bed and pressed her lips to Derek's with all her strength. He was here, next to her, not lying helplessly in the woods, blood streaming from his vital organs.

"I love you, too."

_**Once again, I'm so sorry for the long delay but I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you did, PLEASE don't forget to leave reviews. They make me very happy. I'm hoping that Chapter 33 will be out soon, as well, or at least sooner than this chapter lol. **_

_**I also want to give a special shoutout to Alex, who is one of my most devoted readers and followers. I had been looking for a way to give her a shoutout in this story for a long time, especially after she named a nurse after me in her fic, but it was difficult, already having a character named both Alex and Alexandra. I figured having a quick nurse in my story with the name Alex wasn't too confusing though! Love you!**_

_**(If you want, please check out her story, Alternate Ending to the MerDer scene in 10x24, her username is Merdermcfamily. She is a very talented writer!)**_

_**Thank you so, so much for reading and sticking by me. I appreciate it more than I can say.**_

_**Xoxo, merderpedia :)**_


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